Intimacy

[2.] The Worst

<Queens, New York, November 22nd; 12:01:59 A.M.>

Lamar's Luxury Apartment

"And although it hurts I know. . I just can't keep running away"--Jhene Aiko

I slowly and quietly opened up the apartment door. As I opened it, I noticed that I was walking in a pitch black room. Suddenly,  the lights turned on while Lamar was sitting on the couch, sniffing coke.

"Baby?" I said,  scared.

"So again, why would you leave without my permission?" Lamar asked me, angry.

He had a glass cup in his left hand.  . Noticing his anger, I had a feeling that he was gonna throw it at the wall. The glass cup shattered once it hit the hard white wall.

"I didn't know Lamar." I responded, nervously .

"You didn't know?" He mocked me, "Oh. . Just like you don't know that you got another thing coming . .huh?!" He said, as he took one last sniff of his cocaine.

My heart began to race as Lamar began to come for me. . I wanted to escape but my hand couldn't reach the door knob on time. . It was too late and Lamar aggressively pulled me by my hair.

"You thought you were gonna leave me?!? Huh?!" He yelled in my ear.

"You're hurting me!" I began to cry.

"Oh b*tch! You haven't felt the hurt yet. . You wanna leave out the house without my permission.  . I got something for your a**!" He said, punching me constantly.

I screamed.  . I begged. . I cried. . And I suffered. My face began to bleed tears. . My hands began to turn cold blooded. . And my body began to shut down slowly on me.

"Don't you even think about running away! Do you got that?!?" He demanded, as the spit from his mouth made its final destination.

I stared at him, afraid.  . Wanting to leave but I couldn't.  . I was trapped.

"Because if you do, best and believe I will find your a** and kill your a**!" He said as final and went to the bedroom alone.

The moment he left, the moment my mind went out of control.  I began to feel on myself and felt the bruises he marked on my body. Started to pull my hair, Scream silently, break walls and glass. . I began to feel what love really isn't. . Desolation.  .  .  .