Sophia Carson quickly falls for her boyfriend, not realizing how dangerous he truly is. Young and naive, she hopes to escape her abusive family, only to find herself in another abusive relationship, facing near-death experiences multiple times. Livi...
A year has gone by, and things are looking up. I got accepted into my dream school, the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, with a full ride! Not having many friends gave me lots of time to study, so I'm grateful for that. I've always had a passion for art. My art teacher, Mrs. Rodgers, once dramatically said that if I didn't pursue a career in art, she wouldn't be able to go on with her life. Dramatic, I know, but she'd be thrilled to hear the news. I'm not 100% sure what I want to do with my degree yet, but I'll figure it out. Right now, I spend my summers teaching young children art at a camp, which I adore. My winters are filled with waitressing at a local restaurant—not my favorite, but it pays the bills.
Things with Diego have been interesting. Sometimes, I feel like I'm on top of the world, and other times, like I'm the biggest burden. He's incredibly confident and knows exactly what he wants. His strong personality and deep self-care doesn't make him a bad person; he just strives to be the best. He likes to take control to ensure everything goes right, and while it sometimes feels like I can't make any decisions, I know he believes he's doing what's best for me. He loves me, and I hold onto that.
As I sit in the kitchen, the soft light filtering through the window casts a warm glow on my canvas. The familiar scent of coffee lingers in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of paint. My brush glides smoothly, each stroke bringing my vision to life. The world outside fades away, and it's just me, my colors, and the sound of my music playing through the speaker. This is my sanctuary, where time stands still and creativity flows freely.
I finish my painting, and it's beautiful—it captures all the things that remind me of my brother. The vibrant colors and familiar scenes bring back so many memories we've shared. I look at it with a smile and sit there for a moment, just appreciating the artwork and the bond we used to share. It's a perfect reminder of how much he meant to me.
As I glance around the kitchen, I can't help but laugh at the mess I've made—paint splatters everywhere, brushes scattered, and my clothes covered in colors. I'm such a messy painter, but it's all part of the creative process. The chaos around me feels like a testament to the passion and love I poured into this piece.
A sudden jiggle of the door handle snaps me back into reality. Panic sets in as I realize the mess—Diego is going to kill me. He can't stand when the house is a disaster. I frantically start to clean, hoping to hide the chaos before he notices. But it's too late. He walks in, takes one look at the mess, and his face turns red with anger.
"I work so hard to give us a nice home and this is how you're gonna treat it!" he yells.
"Sorry, babe, I just got a little carried away. It wipes off, and I'll clean it all." I say forcing a smile.
He just stares in disgust.
"I'd love to show you my painting I did; it's for my brother."
"Would you just let it go already? It's been a year, Soph. He's gone. I'm right here. Why don't you do something to make me happy for once?"
I'm in shock at the words coming out of his mouth. How dare he say that?
"Screw you," slips out of my mouth.
He lunges forward, grabbing me by the neck and pinning me against the wall. His face is inches from mine as he screams, "Don't you ever disrespect me in my house, or you'll see far worse than this."
His grip tightens, and I can feel my pulse pounding in my ears. Desperation and anger surge through me.
"Let go of me!" I manage to choke out, my voice trembling but defiant. "You have no right to treat me like this."
His eyes narrow, and for a moment, I see a flicker of something—doubt, maybe? But it's gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by cold, hard fury.
He finally releases his grip, and I run to the bedroom, tears streaming down my face. What did I get myself into? I shut the door behind me and collapse onto the bed, sobbing uncontrollably. The weight of his actions crush me, and I feel trapped, suffocated by the reality of my situation.
Today
I arrive home after my shift from the diner, I undress and sink into the claw foot tub. The warm water envelops me, and I close my eyes, thinking about my art degree and how I can put it to use. This tub is definitely going to be my haven, a place where I can escape and find a moment of peace. As I soak, I start to imagine the future, and the possibilities that await.
After the bath, I decide to leave my messy bun as it is, throw on some baggy sweats and a cozy sweater, and head outside to paint. As I was pulling up to the cottage after work, I couldn't help but notice just how stunning my surroundings are. The sunset is breathtaking, and I knew I had to capture this moment. I walk down the old dirt road just far enough to get a perfect view of the cabin and the natural beauty that surrounds it. Setting up my easel, I start to paint, letting the vibrant hues of the sunset and the rustic charm of the cottage inspire every brushstroke. The scene is almost magical, and I lose myself in the colors and the serenity of the evening.
As I step back to admire my work, Dixie barrels toward me, nearly sending me sprawling to the ground again. I crouch down and shower her with pets and affection, saying, "Hey girl, what are you doing back over here? You trying to get us both in trouble?" Just then, that familiar, charming voice from the diner floats over to me.
"I see ya met Dixie again. Sorry 'bout her, she can be a bit wild sometimes."
Tate. Oh my goodness, I look like a hot mess. Why am I so worried about this? It's not like I even have a shot, but still, it's so embarrassing to be seen like this.
"That's a real pretty picture. You did that?"
"Thank you, I did," I reply with a smile.
He smiles back and nods.
"You guys out for a walk?" I ask.
"Yeah, I noticed you had some kinda fancy setup over here with that easel, so we were kinda curious and did a bit of spyin'."
I laughed. Then it happened again—we were just standing there, staring in silence, smiling at each other.
He breaks the awkward tension. "Would ya wanna go on a walk with us?"
I'd like that more than anything, but I'm not trying to cause problems in someone's relationship my first week here. "I'd love to, but I wouldn't want to upset anyone." I say.
"I'm single, if that's what you're gettin' at." He chuckles.
"Oh!" I say, a little too excitedly, leaving my cheeks flushed. "Well, in that case, sure, I'd love to go on a walk. Thanks," I say with a smile.
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