Solo

As I sit here alone in my empty apartment, with my knees squished against my chest, I have flashbacks. I remember what it felt like to have my freedom completely taken away. Now however, for once in a long time, I feel free. The chains and bars have been remove, along with the ring. Along with this freedom come many raging emotions. Feelings of disappointment and joy all fill my stomach. Yet, as I explore my new single life, I can’t help but see my past.
Sitting up with my knees against my chest, looking at the door as I hear him thrashing through the living room, I tell myself that this is the last time. He makes his way to the bedroom door, and I can hear him yelling at me for getting home late from work and not making dinner on time. Finally he bursts into the room and I curl myself into a ball to try and block out the madness, but unfortunately I am unable to do so.
“Who the ***** do you think you are? Obviously not a wife!” he says.
“It was one mistake, Jack, I am so sorry.”
“Yeah well it better not happen again, and to make sure you don’t I am going to lock you in this room for two days. Maybe that’ll show you who is boss.” And with that he walked out the door and locked it.
I watch the door close and then I hop onto the bed and put my head in my hands and start to cry. Crying for love, for safety, and ultimately for freedom. Hopefully God will hear my plea for help because I know I do not have the strength to get out on my own. Thinking that after these two days of seclusion all this will be resolved, and that life will get better, I fall asleep.
One month later and nothing has changed. This time I sit on the couch as I watch him drink and drink. In a few minutes he will be rip roaring drunk and ready to fight. Wishing to be anywhere but in my own home, visions of my childhood rush back to me. I want to go back there into the depths of my memory and warn the girl in pigtails I see in front of me. Halfway through my reminiscing I feel a blow to my head and I can hear a man’s voice booming, and I am thrown back into reality. As I fall flat onto the couch I can tell he wants something more. He wants to take advantage of me.
“Jack don’t do this.” I try to tell him calmly because I know if I yell he will become angrier.
“Don’t deny your husband Lily…just try and make me happy.”
Though I do not want to, I can tell if I don’t something worse will ensue. I try very smoothly to get out from under him, but it seems like he is practically dead weight. Maybe he blacked out, now if I can just get out from under him I could grab the keys and leave. Quietly and quickly I come out from under him, lay him on his side because I don’t want him to die, and I grab my purse and run outside. Once outside I realize I have nowhere to go. No one wants to deal with the mess of a person I have become. After all, as Jack is always telling me no one wants me so I might as well stay with him. So I go inside and relish in the freedom I almost tasted.
The next three months I cry myself to sleep every night, and think about what I can do to better my life. Jack never notices because he is always drunk. I try to look on the bright side of things; however, it has been hard to find one. After a few weeks of thinking it over I have decided that it would be best if I just stayed in the relationship and obeyed Jack. Tonight I find it especially hard to do so. He’s already had a hard day at work and now I fear he may take it out on me. Trying to diffuse his anger I make him is favorite dinner, steak and potatoes, but this is a fruitless effort. Finally as expected, he begins to yell at me for God knows what reason. This has become norm for me, but tonight something feels very different.
All of a sudden, his face is in my face and then his hands are on my face shaking me. I release myself from his grip and try to run, but he hits me to the ground and I fall like a deck of cards. Then, as a lay on the ground crying out for mercy, he begins to kick me. Though our fights have always been bad, I have never felt this much pain before.
I cry out to him, “Jack stop it! You’re hurting me!”
“ This is what you deserve you piece of ****! I am going to make you hurt till I scare the independence right out of you!”
My body begins to shake as he hits me harder and harder, and I cover my face so he cannot see the fear in my eyes. Next thing I know I see him coming in to hit my face, but as I peek out through my fingers I decide to fight back. Right before his knuckles and my face collide I sideswipe his feet as hard as I can. He falls to the floor, and as he does he hits his head on the corner of the coffee table. With him knocked out on the floor I run and grab my keys and jump in my car. Before I realize the magnitude of what I have done I am driving down the road feeling freedom hit my face like the wind.
As I drive and drive not knowing where to turn, I wonder whether this was all a mistake. But then, I get a feeling in my gut that says everything is going to be all right. And I wonder why I stayed all this time when getting out would have been easy. It was fear. Not really fear of him but of life alone. This feeling had kept me from protecting my life and from finding a better one for all this time. Now, however, I have left it behind with my wedding pictures.
Sitting here on the floor I recall my past like a vivid nightmare. Though alone, I do not feel afraid at all. My life starts right now with this moment and no one is here to hold me back. Freedom swells within me and I move on solo.

Note From Laura
I wrote this story with no previous experiences like this. I had always seen specials on TV about abuse, and when I got the chance to write a short story I thought this would be an interesting topic. I hope I represented the situation well, and I hope that this story will at least be interesting to its readers.