Drowning

Courage

A/N: This one is dedicated to a friend. We went through the worst kind of thing together. Surviving it is an act of courage in itself. I'm proud of you and you're proud of me. May you always find the courage to do what needs to be done.

DISCLAIMER: This is a short story that depicts dark thoughts including alluding to suicidal thoughts as well as domestic abuse. If you or a loved one is suffering from either of these things, please consider talking to a professional. I am happy to act as a sounding board for anyone who made just need someone to listen, but I am NOT a professional and I would always encourage you to seek them out if you are struggling. There may be triggers in this story so please proceed with caution.

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Today was the day.

Mystic wore her nicest outfit; armor for the coming battle. Standing on the city sidewalk, she looked up at the old brick building before her. Traffic rolled by loudly behind her, potholes lining the road and a long line of traffic comes narrowing the one way street from three lanes to one as the city attempted, once again, to fix their roads.

Ahead of her, a wide set of concrete steps led up to the glass doors. One side was tapered off with caution tape for god knew what reason, and she thought she caught a glimpse of a homeless person sleeping up against the wall of the building. Only the person's foot was visible as the rest of them were hidden well between two very well maintained and perfectly rounded bushes.

"Watch out!"

Jumping at the sound, Mystic spun around at the words, nearly losing her balance as she scrambled to make way for two police officers sprinting into the building, the court house. Already on edge, she stared after them, wondering what had been so urgent. Wondering if it had anything to do with him.

She shivered at the thought; his face coming to her mind. Mystic wanted, more than anything, to turn right back around and run to her car. To safety. She wanted to never have to see his face again.

Almost without thinking, she lifted a hand to her cheek, the one he'd stomped on in a fit of rage. Her fingers trailed down toward her jaw, neck...pausing briefly on her chest. The chest he'd punched repeatedly, over and over as he'd held her by her throat against that wall.

Death. Death was what she'd been afraid of, and what she'd craved. Death would have ended the suffering. Death would've brought peace.

She hated that he'd made death such an appealing option even as much as she feared the act of dying.

That man, she thought bitterly, that man had charmed her with affection and kindness. He'd made her feel loved and cherished. Then he'd turned that love to something toxic. It poisoned her mind and it poisoned her world.

He'd made it so that even the things she'd loved would forever remind her of him. He'd taken her life slowly at first, so that she might never know it was gone. Eventually, he got greedy. No longer bothering to his his twisted thoughts and feelings, he beat her down until she had nothing. Until she was nothing.

Mystic wanted her life back. She wanted joy. She wanted happiness. She wanted to live.

Living was why she stayed there; why she didn't run for her car. She wasn't the only one he'd hurt. She was one in a long line of his victims.

It wouldn't end if she ran. It wouldn't end if someone didn't finally find the strength to face him.

"Mystic!"

She was jolted out of her thoughts, turning in surprise to the brunette woman suddenly standing next to her, watching her expectantly. "What?"

"I said everyone's waiting. Are you ready?"

Mystic looked past her friend, toward the small group of women behind her. All of them with their owns stories. All of them here for her. They huddled together, some shifting nervously, like her uneasy about what they'd find when they entered. Some determined; chins raised and fire in their eyes as they awaited the moment they'd be forced to look at him again.

"Hey," her friend said softly, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder and moving her head back into Mystic's view. "You've got this. Screw him."

Mystic smiled at the words of encouragement. She felt her determination renewed. "Yeah," she replied, turning back toward the courthouse. "Yeah, I do."