Karma ||H.S||

Chapter 43

I've been laying in Ryan's bed for what feels like hours. The side of my face pressed against the tear soaked pillow and the comforter laying on top of me, covering my naked body. I haven't been able to move. It hurts to even move my arm up to wipe the tears from my swollen face that hurts to touch even more than it did before. I know I have to force myself to stop crying. I need to be strong for just a little while. Just until I'm free from here.

The last time I left here was much easier than this particular moment. Ryan had let me go home to see Dad, just like any other time I was able to go home, and I just never returned. Dad and I had planned it for over a month together, and when he was able to find a new house, I was able to just walk out the door easily. But this time—I'm not going to wait until I have that luxury. 

Ryan has been passed out for a while now, and I've been listening to the noise outside the door and down the stairs start to dwindle down as I look around the room. Nothing has changed. It's just the bed and a couple dressers. One with a broken mirror, that I happened to break a very long time ago when being thrown into it. Dirty clothes are strewn about the floor, bongs placed next to the lamp on the bedside table and the same picture of Bob Marley still hangs on the wall. It's really disgusting in here.

I've located my purse already, that's sitting just inside the open closet on the top shelf. I find it hard to believe he didn't try to hide it better than he did, although he was pretty high, so I guess it makes sense he didn't put more thought into it. I've been trying to figure out how I'm going to get out of this bed, grab something to wear and get my purse, all without making any noise. I just haven't been able to muster up the courage to try yet.

I'm not sure if my body just isn't used to how Ryan treats me or if he was just far worse than any other time this time around, but I know, with everything in me, that I don't want to experience this kind of brutality again. Knowing that I'm going to go ahead with this plan inside of my head, I have to make sure I'm as quiet as possible, because if Ryan wakes up, I'm as good as dead, because if I remember correctly, his gun is just inside his bedside table drawer right next to him.

I'm hoping with the amount of alcohol and drugs in Ryan's system right now, he will sleep through my attempt to leave the room. When I push through the pain and sit myself up, I look over at him. He looks dead to the world, despite the fact that his chest is rising and falling with every breath he takes. Now is a good time to get out of here. 

My legs shake as my feet hit the cold wooden floor beneath me. My heart starts to pound in my chest knowing I can't make one wrong move. I find my underwear at the foot of the bed and I carefully maneuver myself around so I don't have to sit down on the bed even though it hurts to bend over. I slip on a random t-shirt because I don't have time to find my own, cringing in pain as I throw it over my head. I'm happy when I find some leggings. I know they aren't mine. They must be Justice's, but I don't care. They're better than my jeans right now. 

My eyes don't leave Ryan's sleeping body, other than to close my eyes every time I wince in pain. All I have to do, is reach into the closet to get my purse, and I can leave. Stretching up to get it, makes my eyes water and my ribs hurt. But I have to forget the pain right now. I have to push through it. When I turn back around, I let out a sigh of relief seeing Ryan hasn't moved in the few seconds I turned from him to get my purse. Before moving again, I look to make sure my phone is there, and lucky for me, it's where I left it. I grab it and tip toe to the door.

The house is eerily quiet. The clicking of the door seems to echo though the stillness, making my heart pound harder than ever thinking I'm going to get caught. My legs shake with every slow step I take down the dirty carpeted stairs in my bare feet through the dark. I click the on button on my phone and shove it back in my purse so the sound can't be heard. The florescent lights in the kitchen are on, bouncing off the walls of the living room, making it easy for me to see where I'm going as I get closer to the bottom of the stairs.