Sin For Me

Chapter 1: Present Day ☑️

Megan

Another nightmare. Another gut-wrenching distant reminder of my corrupt past. I was alive, well, and breathing. No bruises lined my limbs.

Reality struck hard as I awoke to the loneliness of my quite, murky apartment. My fists were clenched tightly amongst the sheets of my cold bed. I quickly released them, and a sigh of relief escaped my quivering lips.

I was safe. Truly safe.

My memory plagued me as the smell the whiskey on his breathe from that night still instilled within my nostrils, as if the incident had taken place only moments prior.

I sat up hastily on the stuff mattress of my bed, glancing about the darkness of the room. How many nights would I relive this constant nightmare before I could finally live a normal life again? I pleaded with myself for what seemed like the millionth time in the last six months.

Beads of sweat trickled down my forehead, despite how cold it was in my newfound dwelling . I held my thin comforter close to my chest and breathed deep within its fabric. Relax, Megan, I consulted myself as I rocked back and forth in attempt to calm my never-ceasing panic. I was a ball of nerves, a train wreck at its worst. Would things ever get better?

Moving across the country was sure to be a fresh start for my failed life, a new beginning to move forward and truly live without oppression. But why couldn't I leave the past behind me and finally move on? No matter my attempts, the past always seemed to haunt me in wake and sleep. My heart constricted in my chest. Whether it be from the emotional pain, or the physical, I couldn't determine.

Is this what death felt like? I wondered. Finding oneself trapped in the past, haunted by the painful memories of a love lost? Or the pain inflicted by said love? Was it ever love at all, or merely a means of possession?

I had truly loved my husband, and I meant every word of my vows when I said, "I do." And I expected no less from Max, as he was the most affectionate man I'd ever met. Until one day he wasn't.

But where did it all go wrong? Where did we go so wrong in our marriage that I deserved to be battered and abused?

I guess now I'd never know...

~~~~~~

Following the tragic accident six months prior, I had urgently relocated to a new city thousands of miles away—a place where I could start a new life away from everyone and everything that reminded me of him and the past I left behind—away from the torture, lies and secrets. I moved as far away as the first plane I booked would take me, which consequently turned out to be New York City.

I had always dreamt of touring New York in my younger years, but I never actually pictured myself living amongst the vast vicinity of it. But a big city had its' perks, I'll admit. It was overpopulated for one. And unlike Wimberly, which was much smaller in population, everyone here didn't know one another. They didn't whisper or gossip. Word didn't spread like wildfire in a city so massive as New York. I could be one in a million here, and nobody would single me out of a crowd. Thus, making New York the perfect place to start over.

Upon my arrival in the city, I opted for a change. The woman in the mirror no longer suited me. She was webbed up in an array of secrets and deceit. She needed to be someone else. Here, she could be anyone she desired. No one would talk. No one would see through the disguise. No one could unmask the pain she had endured. No one would uncover the secrets she held deep within her dark soul.

So, I drastically altered my appearance, chopping away my beautiful curls and bleaching them from red to blonde. My hair, I sighed. My mother always prided herself on my hair—it was one of my best features, she had always marveled. The auburn curls that used to bring out the green tenure in my eyes was long gone. And now, the remnants of the frail woman in the mirror staring back at me was merely a stranger. I welcomed the gesture. I needed this. I needed to move on. For good.