PULSE [H.S]

018

"You are not the darkness you endured. You are the light that refused to surrender." — John Mark Green

I hate stuffed peppers.

I barely even like peppers, if I'm being honest. They taste fine, but they don't taste good enough to justify how long they take to cook.

I poke one of them with a knife, and it's finally soft enough to be considered done. I pull the tray of stuffed peppers out of the oven and set it on the stove. Aaron loves these, for some reason. He always asks me to make them. I let them rest while I wait for him to get here. He should be here any minute now.

I fill up a bowl of cat food for Scrappy, opening the window.

There's a loud bang on my door. The abrupt sound of it makes me drop the bowl of food, sending pieces of cat food scattering all over the place.

That wasn't a knock.

That was a loud bang, like someone was trying to break my door down.

The sound of it sends a jolt of fear right up my spine. Anyone could be in the hallway right now. My first thought is that it's someone from the cartel coming to kill me. The thought almost paralyzes me.

I walk over to the door as quietly as I can, seeing Aaron on the other side of the peephole.

God, why did he knock like he was trying to murder me?

I open the door to let him in, but I realize that's a mistake the second I see his face. It's terrifying. He's mad, practically fuming as he pushes past me and slams the door shut.

I ask him, "What's wrong?"

When he glares down at me, I back away from him. I recognize that look in his eyes, and it's never good. His eyes are dark, almost black, with no hint of kindness in them. All I can see is the bad side of him right now.

He hisses, "What's wrong? You tell me, Kizalyn."

"I don't understand," I say, my voice slightly panicky.

He points at my door and then slams a key down on the counter. I stare at it, remembering that I gave him a key to my apartment the other day after he asked about it again. I didn't even think about it when Harry had someone change my locks.

He seethes, "You finally give me a key to your apartment, and then you fucking change the lock?"

Shit, shit, shit.

"I forgot. I'll get you a new key, I promise," I say, my voice pleading, but it's not enough.

His fist connects with my cheek, and I stumble backwards from the impact. The ring on his finger draws blood on my skin, scratching it. My face stings, and there are already tears starting to form in my eyes.

Sometimes, when Aaron hits me, his face afterwards is full of shock or regret. Sometimes he instantly apologizes and feels bad about it. When I look up at his face now, I don't see any of that. He looks emotionless, like he's never felt an ounce of love for me at all.

Like he wants to kill me.

I back away from him, trying to put some distance between us. My face hurts, and my eyes are rapidly filling with tears. I've been scared of Aaron before, but this is different. This feels different. Worse.

"Your stupid fucking lock won't protect you," he says, approaching me again.

When he takes another step towards me, I run into my bedroom as fast as I can, slamming the door shut behind me. I fumble to close the lock, but I don't get it in time before he pushes the door open, storming in after me.