Grudge

Chapter 7.

IVY’S POV

I wake up on the couch in our small living room with a pounding headache and my bags I had packed last night beside the coffee table. I see a the big book about England on the table, and I assume Kyle used that to attack me again last night. All the memories piece back together as I slowly begin to fully wake up. What has my life come to? I have taken one too many beatings from this crazy man lurking around this apartment, and I can’t do it anymore. And that Zayn, he’s so mysteriously caring and worried about me, I don’t know if I should feel happy someone finally wants to protect me, or scared because he found out where I live and broke the door down. My whole mind is spinning with all this new information and I feel like I’m going to be sick. 

I sit up, and the throbbing coming from the side of my head escalates and I’m left feeling dizzy, even though I have barely moved. I reach up to touch there the pain is coming from, and I can feel a massive lump with a gash down the middle. He probably hit me with the spine of the book to make a harder impact. Asshole. 

Speak of the devil I rub my eyes and look around to see Kyle in the kitchen cooking some kind of breakfast. It smells delicious and I can’t help but feel sick due to being so hungry. I check the clock on the wall to see it’s only 7am. It’s Saturday? Kyle never gets up early on a Saturday, and the cooking is usually the other way round. I never once minded that I did all the cooking, and cleaning, and well, everything, but now that I think about it I’m really quite annoyed that I was basically his house maid who he occasionally kissed and slept in the same bed as. 

I need to go to the bathroom, but don’t want to stir the beast currently occupying the kitchen and I want to keep all the attention off me until I decide what my next move is. I slowly get up, the throbbing getting worse, and start to creep off, but of course the bloody blanket which is still wrapped around my body is wedged underneath the couch pillows making me trip, luckily not falling. I’ve spent too much time in this place on the ground... Because of how lucky I am, Kyle instantly hears me moving and turns around, his whole body black and blue from the damage Zayn caused last night. It makes me feel a little bit happier knowing that I'm not the only one who copped a beating in this house last night. 

“Morning princess, fancy anything to eat?” He smiles sweetly, his bottom lip busted. Wait, what did he just say? Did he just call me princess after what happened last night? I must be dreaming.

“Ehh, I’m not really hungry.” I say as my stomach grumbles, but as I look down at my lumpy, curvy, shameful body I hush my conscience, I don’t deserve to eat.

“C’mon babe, I made it all for you.” He says moving to the side of all the pots and pans he’s used to cook me up a massive feast. All I can think is that I’m going to have to clean the mess.

“I need to go to the bathroom, can you give me a second?” I ask, needing to recollect my thoughts. I can’t let him trick me into staying. I know what he’s doing, and it’s not fair. He’s going to act like the loved up boyfriend he always pretended to be, and then this time next week I will have a new injury to take care of.

“Sure Iv, I will be waiting.” He smiles again, making me feel even sicker.

I rush off to the downstairs bathroom, throwing my head over the toilet bowl to let all the sickness I feel drain from my body. I need to get out, I need to go now before he traps me in here. The thought of being stuck with him again for another night brings up more vomit I didn’t even think was there. I wobble to stand up, flush the toilet and make my way over to the mirror and sink. 

I wet my hands and rub them over my face, looking up into the mirror as I do so. The bags under my eyes are so big it looks like they could sink into my face at any moment. My skin is all clammy and there is a constant look of fear in my once bright and full of life eyes. I’ve never fully been alright, but this is my lowest point. I turn my head to see the bump sticking out and the blood in my hair. I don’t even get a chance to clean it before the tears start to flow. My eyes travel further down my body, and I can’t help but feel sick again. My legs are all bruised and covered in these stretchy lines. My hips are so round and wide and my stomach is so far from flat I have to look away before I'm sick again. 

This isn’t the life I want anymore and it’s time to tell Kyle. I’m prepared for anything because I know I can’t get any lower and he really can’t hurt me anymore. I wipe the tears from my eyes, and muster up the courage to go back out and face whatever comes towards me. Last night he tried to rape me and knocked me out, and this morning he’s making me food and calling me babe again, so another mood swing should be on it’s way from him shortly. 

I walk slowly back into the kitchen, my weak and tired body barely keeping me upright. I see Kyle sitting at the dining table with all this food ready, and my stomach churns. I’m not going to give in. I need to say it now before I get too scared and really think about what I’m going to do.

“Kyle listen...” I begin, sitting down on the chair across from him so if he gets mad he at least has to get out of his chair to hit me. “I’m going for a while. I just need a little break to sort myself out. Please don’t be mad or think that I’m leaving you all alone, you know I’ll always love you and be here for you, okay?” I can’t read his face as it twists up, it’s either anger, shock or sadness, and unsettling feeling stirs again inside me. I watch intently trying to calculate his next move.

When he doesn't say anything for a good 2 minutes, I slowly get up, not game enough to walk away incase he chases me. But he doesn’t move, and he still hasn’t from the moment the words left my mouth.

“This is it Ivy, you need to go now!” I psych myself up, slowly leaving Kyle with his thoughts and I collect my bags from next to the couch I slept on. I quickly grab out a fresh oversized grey sweater and pair of black tracksuit pants, along with my vans and white beanie and get changed then and there. Of course I check to see if Kyle’s looking, not that he can see from where he's sitting, and no surprise he still hasn’t moved. I throw my hair up into a messy pony tail, and grab my phone and handbag from the coffee table, which were in my hands last night when I tried to leave. I don't even bother to put makeup on because honestly nothing can cover up the sadness plastered on my face. 

Once I’ve finished getting ready, I immediately zip everything closed, pick up all my bags, and as I go to walk down the hallway I hear a bang in the kitchen. I almost, almost turn around to go and see what it is, but I know I’ll just get hurt so I leave it and keep walking, holding my head up high. As I open the door the plates stop crashing and all I can hear is a heavy sobbing, and I swear I even hear him say my name.

"Don't give in, it's what he wants, he's just messing with you." I tell myself, convinced I should go back in there. But I don't, not this time. 

With that I step out of my now old apartment, closing the door and not looking back. I feel freedom already as I make my way down the corridor and the long flight of stairs. This is the last time I will be doing this walk, and it doesn't even sadden me in the slightest. I walk out the front door of the apartment building, and the crisp morning air hits my body and I can feel the goosebumps rise to the surface. I breathe in the fresh air and take my belongings off down the road. I don't know where I'm going, but I just need to leave. 

A life of happiness starts now...

(Hey guys, thanks so so much for the 1.1k reads and all the votes! We never thought we'd get so many? But still we appreciate it so much! Zayn's birthday is too soon and I'm not ready my baby is growing up... But anyways don't forget to follow @grudgefanfic for updates, or follow our personals @tossermalik & @loucumlinson.)