Murder City

Chapter Nine

9 | Aurora Bennett

Trigger Warning: Descriptions of physical abuse.

I don't bother thanking him as I slam the car door. I see him lift his hand, waving slightly, before giving an awkward grin. I resist the urge to punch his windscreen as I walk past. The air feels colder now, my house looks darker too. 

All I wanted was a nice night with Billie and some friends. But I never got that. I saw the way his face dropped as I told him I couldn't leave Fletcher. The hate in his eyes almost resembled him. It was scary, the man I thought of as my messiah turning into my Judas. I don't think he understands who Fletcher is. I don't understand who Fletcher truly is, but I've met who Fletcher really is.

I've met him more often than I'd like to admit. 

I've seen how Fletcher can go from an ignorant, uncaring man to something more powerful than God himself. He'll put his mind and body strength together, until the person who's caused his rage has had everything stripped from them. I remember the last time he got angry. I don't remember what I did, but to Fletcher it was the worst thing possible. Something that should be punishable by death. 

I don't remember much of what my punishment was exactly. But I remember waking up with a bruised arm, some of my false nails ripped off, and a tiny scar just above my left eyebrow. It's faded now, but I still feel it. I feel the stab of pain when I apply makeup. I feel the scar practically pop open when Fletcher comes near. I tend to ignore it now, but it will forever be there. 

A stain on my body. 

I walk through the front door, the entire house feels quieter than It should. I'd argue too quiet. 

Was it always this quiet?

I don't hear Fletcher shuffling around upstairs, so I exhale a breath of relief. He must still be asleep, and whatever happened tonight will eventually be forgotten. I kick off my heels, my feet don't feel the same pain they should, but thats because I had them on for less than an hour. 

"Fucking Billie." I groan, walking into the kitchen and turning on the light, before rubbing my hand across my face.

"I know you are." 

A voice, the one I know all too well, comes from across the room. I want him to stay there. I don't know what I'll do if he gets any closer, but I know once he starts to stride over I'm in trouble. "Fletcher.." I pull my hand away from my face, stepping back. "Baby.." I smile. 

Some weird, twisted part of me is glad he's here, whilst the other, more sensible parts, make me enraged. Its the same feeling I had at Billie's party. The feeling of normality. Billie doesn't exist right now. Its just me and Fletcher.

Oh god.

Its me and Fletcher.

I stumble back slightly, grabbing onto the counter for support. Fletcher doesn't look the same anymore. His blonde, messy hair looks fake. His blue eyes look like cheap contact lenses, and the muscular structure of his jaw looks almost plastic. "Don't 'baby' me, Aurora."

I missed the nickname 'Ari' after my dad died. I missed it so much, but every time someone else would use it I felt sick. Now I miss it because it was a sign of affection from Billie, it always had been a sign of affection, but now it felt even more special. After never truly experiencing pure romantic love, the nickname was a basic way of telling me that everything would be okay, that love truly exists.

But everything isn't okay, and love may exist, but not for girls like me.

Fletcher steps closer, I step back as far as I can until I'm squashed against the counter.