Walking Away Is No Easy Choice(ON HOLD)

Walking Away Is No Easy Choice

 ..To the right>>>>>>> is the pictures of Camrons tatoo's, i dont want to show who the real person is but if you could guess from the picture then good on you !

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Prologue

We got married very young, mum and dad were not too keen about us because they believed we were too young and not ready for this big of a commitment.

"Yeah whatever mum, I love him and he loves me. I want to marry him, he is the most caring and loving person I’ve ever met"

I used to tell her this over and over. They denounced our marriage. That was a very vital and depressing moment of my life. Nevertheless we still talked and I was still their daughter that married at the age of 16, to her 18 year old boyfriend.

I loved my husband he was so loving, so sweet, oh yeah and very charming. Camron was about 6' (1.83 cm). He has two tattoos one on his right arm that means "Good luck on your journey" (ironic really because of the situation am in now) and the other on his left hip that says "Godspeed". I am a sucker for blue eyes, and well yeah he's got em .They are light blue that goes perfectly with his dark blonde hair and tanned skin. He walks around and does not even need to flex to show his 8- pack, yes 8 flipping packs! He has a black belt in the Israeli martial art of Krav Maga, he was just perfect.

All our five years together had been beautiful, that stopped on the sixth year, five years ago. My husband and I had been inseparable. Every night I would wait for him to come home, by that time my two boys would be in bed. When he arrived, he would kiss me then tell me how he had been caught up, and he missed me and whatnot. I would tell him it was okay I didn't mind waiting for him. We would make most of our alone time and eventually go bed.

I had a very good job that I was well paid for, but I had to leave it because of the kids. I could’ve taken them to childcare; unfortunately there was no childcare for shift workers five years ago and i couldn't exactly take them to my parents. I managed, I had to. In every household there’s always going to be obstacles and sacrifices to be made, faced and dealt with. One night he came home late, really late.

He enters. Bang! The smell of alcohol hits me hard.

"Alcohol?"

I sniff the air around him just to confirm my suspicion. I tried to hug him instead he pushed me aside with a lot of force i was surprised and fell to my feet hands first.

“What the hell, Camron baby what's wrong? You haven’t drank in over a year wh-".

I said trying to get up and stopped when out of nowhere I felt a sting on ma left cheek.

He’d just slapped me! He helps me to get up and pulls me to him, crushing me with his tight hold. He places his hands on both sides of my face, looking straight into my eyes. He suddenly pushes me back,

“Get outta my sight, get lost, shoo, GO!”

I did as he said and got to bed, shock and surprise written all over my face. the last thought I had before I fell asleep were that i hoped that the next day nothing like this had ever happened and it was just a horrible nightmare.

No, things escalated from that point. The beating became worse; he never sat with us or did anything as a family. Every day I wondered what was happening, why was he so violent, so distant now? He would punch me, while telling me how much he wanted to kill me. Then he grabbed me by the hair, pulling so hard I felt like any second I was going to be left bold as a smoked bird.

He dragged me, held me up and smashed me into the wall, kicked me, spat on me. I cried like a baby begging for its lollipop, and then he’d curse at me. When I looked around, I saw the kid’s eyes looking like they were about to pop out. My sobs was muffled and quiet now only because the kids were now screaming, crying. It hurt to see them like this. He grabbed me again, pushing me into the wall then he locked it up with me inside.

Events like this have been occurring frequently. The next morning, I’d wake up and he’d made breakfast for me and there was always a note and a rose on an empty plate. In the note, he would write about how sorry he was, he didn’t know what came over him, he asked for my forgiveness then told me he loved me.

All that time I would be confused, thinking what was the reason behind all of this. I had once told my best friend and mum, they both warned me and told me to get the hell out of there before it was too late. I didn’t want to have to think too deep about the whole "too late" thing. I would always tell them not to worry and that maybe he was in some kind of phase. (Phase my ass!)

How could I leave him? I would think to myself. I still loved him and I didn’t want to make my kids fatherless or had to drag them into this. Sometimes I would think it was all my doing, maybe I was supposed to listen to him more, or maybe I had been missing something a long time ago that had been in my face. Was I blind by my love for him?

I didn’t want my family broken apart, but this was another night when all hell broke loose. As I looked up at his face, I felt like vomiting, I didn’t want to hate him but I knew we could never be the way we were when we first wedded. It would never be all cream and honey, now it would always be lemon and bitter.

I knew what I had to do that instant and I waited till he’d gone bed that night took my kids and some clothes with me and left the house. I was practically running in the road, with my kids to my sides, clothes on my back and heading straight for my mum’s house. Ever since that night I had never, ever been into that house, bed, room with that man I used to get all butterflies for.

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heeey. um lol.. its marion and this is my first story, so.. yeah.. i dont know if am gonna continue because i reallly dont have a clue on what i am doin, essshh soo should i continuebut anyway hoped you enjoyed that, whoever you are that gets to read it and thanks :) byeee xo