Evasion

Chapter 1

'The lion is most handsome when looking for food' ~ Rumi

Aleena

Crouching against the bathroom radiator, wash-cloth against her jaw, mascara streaming down her face, she pulled her knees closer to rest her chin upon her kneecaps. Quiet, painful sobs crept out from her mouth as the tears slowly trickled down her cheeks. She could feel the pain in her jaw settling from the coolness of the cold water that she had soaked the cloth in. Louder she could hear the footsteps approaching and she quickly pulled herself up, holding onto the bath tub, making her way to the window, ready to open it and climb out if she really needed to. The footsteps stopped outside the door and she could see them in the gap beneath the door, blocking the light from the hallway. He pounded on the door with what seemed like the sound of his fist but she remained quiet.

"Aleena open the fucking door, I didn't mean for this to happen but you fucking provoked me, you just couldn't keep your mouth shut could you?" he yelled, anger still present in his tone and no remorse for the pain he had just inflicted. Reaching now for the plug, she placed it in the bottom of the tub and turned on the hot water. The footsteps began to fade and slowly she began to sprinkle bath salts into the steaming hot water. Pulling a white towel from the cylinder shaped shelf above her, she rested it upon the radiator to heat up, wrapped her hair into a scrunchie, high upon her head and slowly started to peel her clothes off her shattered body, piece by piece.

As she entered the water, the heat began to soothe and relax her. Her mind ticked over, a mixture of memories of him, both good and bad, alongside, thoughts of her next move. Her next move she thought, was to sleep next to her husband, the man who now felt like the enemy.
Unlocking the door feeling a little less anxious she entered the bedroom to see he had already gotten into the bed and fallen asleep. He lay on his left side facing outwards, at the edge of the bed. Walking around to the opposite side, she opened her side drawer, pulled out fresh underwear, let her gown loose and began to dress. Once dressed she reached back into the side drawer and pulled out a diary with a pen. Roughly she began to pen the events of the evening in great detail. Now wearing her silk night-dress, she climbed in behind him and curled her body into his, moulding her limbs around him and closed her eyes. Thoughts raced again clashing against eachother and a mixture of feelings were brewing inside of her. She loved him deeply but knew now that she was in need of great help, one way or another.