Breakaway | d.h

Chapter Two

"Are you okay?"

"I think so,"

"Promise?"

"Too late,"

I squinted my eyes at a beam of sunlight that found its place on my face. "Are you up?" My friend asked and took a seat beside me on the bed.

"Is it that time already?" I asked him as I sat up, still twisted up in warm blankets.

He nodded and played with a string on his pale blue sweater, "I'm afraid so."

I sighed, "I don't want to leave again."

A cool breeze gently blew through the window, causing his sunlit hair to flow carefully as he looked away from me. "C'mon we're going to have to go before he gets back."

I nodded and tried not to think about what it's going to be like sleeping with a cactus and not in a soft bed of stars.

The time had come fast of course. Everybody knows that when you're not looking forward to something it just comes faster the more you think about it. And we we're definitely thinking about it. Our car pulled up in front of my abandoned home.

"Well, here we are." he frowned and unlocked the doors for myself to leave.

I looked out of the window, remembering how happy I was to finally leave this place for the short two weeks. Its creaking door and torn shingles made my skin crawl.

"I'll miss you," I told the chocolate haired boy sitting beside me.

He replied with a smile and a nod. I knew that behind all of that was anger. Anger and tears that he would likely let out after I enter that house. "I'll miss you too."

My lip began to quiver, and I knew I had about a minute to leave that damned boy before I began to cry. "Keep my promise," he reminded me.

I nodded and opened my car door. It took all of my courage to get out of that safety bubble, "When will I see you again?" I asked him as my eyes began to form puddles on my cheeks.

"I'll always be with you, just look up at the stars." He explained, as he shut the passenger door.

I could see he was starting to cry, so I turned around and began to walk. I stopped a few feet in front of the doorway and looked back at him. I knew that both of our hearts were breaking in that moment, the pain was just too real. The sight of him leaning on his steering wheel crying, was killing me.

I turned back around and unlocked the doors to the torn down house and let myself inside, shutting the door behind me. Knowing that I needed to sort myself out before my boyfriend arrived, I made my way to our cigarette smelling living room.

Our torn up leather couch smelled like weed and alcohol, but I somehow made myself comfortable enough to watch some TV.

About a hour of watching some sort of cooking show, I heard the sound of a loud truck pulling into the driveway. My heart began to pump faster. He was home.

The front door slammed and I felt a gust of cold air run through the house. I swallowed hard and hoped that he was sober enough to be sane with me. "Babe i'm home!" He called out to the almost echoing house. I cleared my throat and wiped my eyes quickly and called back, "I'm in the living room."

The house was silent for a moment, with only the sound of the tv talking quietly in the living room. Soon after I heard footsteps coming towards me.

I allowed some oxygen to fill my lungs, exhaling it a moment after. "Why are you in the living room?" his stern smokey voice commanded an answer from my clean self.

"I was just waiting for you all night. Sorry." I apologized, hoping not to get him all hyped up. "How was your trip?"

He fixed his eyes on me for a moment, studying every inch of my body for something that would tell him otherwise. "Great. How was yours?"

I began to chew the inside of my cheek, "Well if you count the trip from the bedroom to here, it was okay."

He sat beside me and changed to channel to some sport related thing. "You better hope that your ass isn't lying to me."

I shook my head and focused on the floor for a moment. The food stained floor. I tried washing it many times but to my despise he would deliberately mess it up again. So I just stopped trying.

"Get me a beer," he demanded and put his feet up on the coffee table.

I stood up sheepishly, hoping to god that there was still some in there from last time.

I made my way to the kitchen, stepping in something sticky on the browning floor tiles. I winced for a moment and pulled open the fridge, a case of beer sitting there waiting for me. I thanked whatever god there was that I didn't have to suffer tonight.

Back in the living room, I handed him his beer. "So what did you do while I was gone?" he questioned me.

I sat down on the other side of the couch, trying to stay as far away from him as I could. "Nothing, just as you told me."

"Good." he sipped at his beer. I really didn't want him to get drunk yet. I wasn't prepared for bruises, not just yet.

I guess my sneaking around started back in the summer when my friend walked in on my boyfriend handing me down some bruises while two drunk girls laughed from the bed, watching me suffer.

Ever since then, I tried to escape but he never gave me the chance. If I didn't do what he told me to, when he told me to do it I would pay the price. Last time I tried to run away, I finally figured out what it was like to have a bottle smashed across your face. My cheek still stung at the thought of that night. But, I would never cheat on him like he would me. I did care about him, but not how he cared about me. To him, I was an innocent little lamb who would do as he wanted without question. And to me? Well I guess we can already figure out how I felt about that.

"Did your friend stop by at all while I was away? Or were you a good girl for daddy?" His eyes glinted in the dimly lit room, as the last drop of beer hit his tongue. I knew this was a trick question, he thought I could trust him before he was drunk. Well, we both knew that I couldn't.

"I was good." I lied, staring at the tv but not watching it.

"We're you? Well, that calls for some celebratory fun later tonight." He grinned.

I bit my lip, trying not to tear up. By 'celebratory fun' he usually meant himself getting unbelievably drunk and violently throwing me around on the bed.

"Right," I frowned.

He turned to me for a moment, "Did you miss me?"

I looked at him, he genuinely looked like he meant it. "Of course I did."

A fake smile plastered across my face, I knew that I had to keep Daniel's promise. Don't let him hurt me. He threw his beer on the floor, and I braced myself for the worst. His alcohol smelling lips found there way to my minty ones. I could smell different perfumes on his clothes, that he probably wore for a couple days. His rough hand glided up my leg, gripping onto my thigh.

"Don't you want to rest for a bit first, it must have been a long drive." I asked him.

"Too late," His dry lips smirked and continued kissing me.