Abusive Chris

Chapter 2 "Crashing"

In the next week, I tried to be better, even when it wasn't my fault, but I didn't see that.

But it hadn't helped. He had done it again and slapped me into my face. And then he apologized, told me that he wouldn't do it again, and had blamed me again. And I bought it. Thought that I was the reason. And that he was right to blame me. Because maybe he was, right?

He was a lawyer. He had a very hard job to do and saw horrible people every day and had to get along with them, while I just cuffed them and ver saw them again.

So it made sense that he wanted to have a nice dinner and a quiet girlfriend at home. And she would do that because he was also right with who else she had who loved her?

Her parents, no.
Jackson, gone.
Tamara would sure leave soon, I mean, she was so young...
Tim had to work with her and maybe a friend, but he would never be more, and if it had consequences, Chris was clear in that point.
The rest of the station must be ashamed that they had to work with me. Chris had told me and made my heart shutter, but maybe he was right. I could be annoying. Tim had always said that when I talked so much while we were on shift.

After he had told me that, I started to distance me from people. I didn't want them to see me just a little weak. Also, I didn't know if they really liked me. I mean, I think I annoyed them little, or maybe even a lot.

Anyways.

After a few weeks, they started whispering and mumbling about me. They looked at me, my cop voice told me concerned, but the Chris inside me said it was disgusting. Maybe over my body? Did I not look good? No, I didn't. Or was I being too annoying again? Probably.

Well, with the time going, Chris's abuse worsened, and every day, my body was aching more and more from the pain he caused not just with slaps into my faces anymore.

Let's say it was more, but I didn't want to think about it. I just denied it.

It was pretty stupid if you asked me, but well, that's how I was.

Stupid. Hurt. Broken. Dumb. Afraid. So fucking afraid.

Because if I would tell them, just if, they sure would be disappointed that I wasn't strong enough to fight against him. But I wasn't even sure if I tried it. I mean, of course, I did, but this little voice inside me told me that I somehow deserved it and that it was my fault... Was it my fault?

+×+×

On a wednesday noon, I had been riding with Tim that day, but I did not say a lot, I refused to eat again.

The crew had been noticing that lately, and it was getting a problem.

"You don't want to eat?"

Concern in Tim's voice.

"Eh, no. I'm fine."

That was a lie.

"You sure? You should eat."

"I said I'm fine!"

I snapped back, and I knew it was from not getting enough sleep and from not eating well. I knew that it could cause mood changes, and I felt awfully sorry for that. I didn't want to snap at him. Snapping was wrong. It would hurt.

I flinched and waited for something to happen, to hurt, but it didn't. It was Tim. He didn't do that stuff. He was nice. But still, flinching had been wrong.

"I-I am sorry, I shouldn't- I-"

I got up fast. Too fast. Everyone started spinning, then getting black.

"Lucy?"

Was the last slurred thing I heard before painfully crashing into the table and then onto the floor.