Her Savior

☆Chapter 8☆

I hear my alarm ringing and as much as I don't have the strength to do anything, I have to get up.

I head into my bathroom to take a shower and get ready but it's hard with my cast on.
When I'm done with my shower, I apply my body lotion and go over to my counter.

I look into the mirror and stare at myself with tears welling up in my eyes as I remember how I got all these marks and a sprained wrist

*beginning of flashback*

▪︎1 week ago ▪︎

Once I'm done with my shift, I pack up all my stuff and get ready to leave.

"Bye Ashley"
"Goodbye dear, be safe," she says as I hug her.

"Bye Ana, I love you"
"Bye Ashley, I love you too"

I leave the cafe as the cool late summer breeze hits me.
This is my favorite time of day. There are more people on the road going back home now, so I know I'm not alone, and if something were to happen to me, there's a higher chance of me being seen.

I continue walking for a few more minutes until I reach the house and I see Jason's car in the driveway.

As I enter the house, I see Jason standing in the kitchen.

"I'm gonna get started on your food right now," I say when I see him looking at me, but that's not why he was looking at me.

"Well well well, if it isn't the slut" he says and I'm not even bothered because it's not the first time he's used such terms on me.

"Guess who called me today," he says glaring at me. "Adam," he says and I freeze getting flashbacks from 2 days ago.

"He told me that you forced yourself on him, got him drunk, and used him to your own advantage," he says and I'm frozen in my spot.

"What?" I say in absolute shock.
"Don't act so confused now that your truth is out. I should've expected this from you, you disgusting whore disappointing bitch. I should've killed you when I had the chance. All you ever do is disappoint me." He says as a stream of tears rolls down my face. I should be used to the usual derogatory terms but that last part hurt and broke something deep inside of me.

He moves towards me and I start moving backward but the door gets in my way and I'm now backed up against it. When he reaches me he puts his hand around my neck and tightens his hold.

I start grabbing at his hand to try and get them off my neck but it's of no use. He uses his other free and starts throwing punches at my tummy. After about 5 or 8 punches, I'm fading in and out of consciousness and he lets go of my neck and I drop to the floor.

He walks into the kitchen and comes out with a wooden cooking stick and I start trying to back away from him but my body's too weak to move.

When he reaches me he starts hitting me with the wooden stick. "Stop, stop, please," I cry but to no avail.

Once he manages to break the stick on my body he moves back and looks at me on the floor. He starts kicking me in my side and anywhere his foot goes, as I cry out in pain.

He reaches into his jeans and pulls out a pocket knife and I'm terrified thinking about what he's gonna do with it.

He walks closer to me, rips my shirt off, takes the knife to the right side of my right arm, and drags it down until just above my elbow and I scream.

My body hurts so bad.

He pulls me across the room and throws me onto the floor.
While on the floor, my right arm is on the ground and he steps on my wrist and I hear something crack.

I scream out in pain and my face is wet from all the tears. I look at him to see him smiling.

I looked back at my wrist and he kneels to my level and slaps me across the face.

"Please, please, I'm begging you, stop," I say to him but he doesn't listen. He starts punching me and I feel something wet drip onto my chin. I realize my lip probably has a cut from the punches.

He stands back up to his normal height and kicks me in the stomach and I let out a huge cry from all the pain I'm in.

He leaves the house and I'm sitting there crying with absolutely no strength to even stand up.

After 30 minutes I try with all the strength I have left and get up. I head upstairs and go to my room and into my bathroom to clean myself up.
I look into the mirror and I'm absolutely disgusted by what I see.

I hate myself so much.
Maybe I deserve all of this.
Nobody likes me.
I'm a burden on everyone.
I'm never gonna be loved.
No one's ever gonna love me.
Everybody leaves.

Somewhere in that time of thinking all that, I picked up my razor and started cutting my right wrist.

There are tears running down my face and after 10 minutes I stop. My wrist is bleeding so much and I just sit on the floor and think about how horrible my life is.

I can't do this anymore, I'm exhausted.

I stand up off the ground and run my arm under cold water. I get the first aid from one of the cabinets and I start cleaning and stitching myself up.

After 30 minutes, I'm done and I decide to take a shower. It's probably not the smartest idea to do after I just cleaned and stitched up. And my wrist is sprained too. But I decided to anyway.
After 10 minutes I get out of the shower because it hurts to move, stand, and even breathe.

I quickly find something to sleep in I go to bed, crying myself to sleep like usual.

*end of flashback*