Behind Closed Doors

Allie.

I stepped out of the shower and dried my freshly dyed black hair. After I wrapped the towel around myself, I stared into the mirror at my lifeless blue eyes.

I hope he doesn't come home drunk again.

That's all I thought about anymore. I walked out of the bathroom door and into the bedroom, where I pulled on some pajama pants and a long shirt.

I was brushing my hair when I heard a loud thump at the front door.

"That would be him." I said softly to myself. I hurried to the front door and opened it, and I was greeted by a hand around my throat. He walked inside and closed the door, my hands clawing at his.

Suddenly, he let go, and I fell to the floor, gasping for air. I stared up at his 6'4" figure towering over me. His blue eyes were dark, and his brown hair was a mess - drunk, as per usual.

"Why'd you take so long to open the door?" He took a drink of his beer and wiped his mouth.

"Where's your key?" I hissed back at him, slowly getting up.

"Lost it. Give me yours."

He grabbed my keychain that hung by the door and searched for it. After what seemed like forever, he chucked them and mumbled, "fuck this."

I walked into the kitchen and looked into the mirror above the sink. A bruise had quickly formed around my neck - a new one to add to the collection. I leaned down to finish up the dishes.

I watched him grab another six-pack out of the fridge and stumble to the couch. The TV clicked on, and he fumbled with the remote.

I slipped upstairs and sat down on the bed.

What am I doing? I thought. I'm 20, and I'm practically on my deathbed living with him.

Part of me still loved Ryan. Part of me wanted to bolt for the door at that very second.

An hour later, I sneaked down the stairs to see him asleep on the couch. I quietly picked up my keys and headed back upstairs, where I took the house key off and started to pack my belongings into one single suitcase.

I can't do this anymore.

Once I was finished, I pulled on some jeans, a t-shirt, and my coat. I grabbed my keys, the house key, and the suitcase and quietly carried it out the door. I walked back in and quietly looked at how his body draped over the couch. I quickly scribbled a note.

Don't try to find me, Ryan. I can't do this anymore.

I placed the house key on the note and walked out, shutting the door behind me quietly.