One Shots

Ghoski

A quick warning; this is a pretty graphic chapter. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO RAPE, CHILD MOLESTATION, OR GENERAL ABUSE.

To all of those waiting on one-shots, summer is near, and I should be back on track after next week.

Enjoy...

The home I had worked so hard to create was falling apart at the seams. The screaming and crying was almost constant. It permeated the walls and invaded my nightmares.

I woke up with an earsplitting headache. The bed was empty, but I had grown used to it.

The shrieking cries of a newborn dragged me out of my cold bed, bones cracking and muscles aching.

One shrieking baby soon turned into three, and I hurriedly began searching for the key I kept to their bedroom.

"I'm coming, darlings." I whispered the words to myself. I could have shouted the words, no one else was home to care, but admitting to myself that my husband wasn't still asleep in our bedroom hurt to much.

I unlocked the door to the kids' bedroom, a practice I had loathed putting in place, but was absolutely necessary for the safety of my babies. I couldn't bare the thought of having my drugged up husband wandering into their bedroom in the night. It was bad enough when he found his way back into mine.

I was up late, reading in bed to try and melt away the stress of the day. I'd already bathed and changed into my sleeping gown, an outfit I used to look forward to wearing for my loving husband. The husband who only ever came home for cigarette money or to sleep off a hangover.

Wednesday had long since gone to bed, but I was determined to wait up for Ryan.

Glancing over at the clock on the nightstand, I sighed. It was past three in the morning, and he hadn't answered any of my texts or calls about coming home. I was worried. I didn't want to lose the love of my life.

My eyes wandered from the clock, to the picture by its side.

Inside the frame was one of our wedding photos. Ryan was dressed in his best suit, clean shaven, his hair slicked back to accentuate his strong jawline. He had his arms wrapped around me, our faces tilted towards each other with genuine smiles a mile wide.

We were so in love.

I thought he was my forever.

Putting my book down, I crawled across the covers and reached out to pick up the frame.

The moment my fingers grazed the surface, the back fell off, and a clear plastic baggie tumbled out to rest on the nightstand.

My jaw fell open in shock and utter horror.

I was no fool, I knew cocaine when I saw it, and that bag held more than I ever wanted to imagine being near my family.

"The fuck are you doing?!"

I whipped my head around, dropping the picture frame in shock. I heard the glass crack in sync with my heart as my eyes landed on the state my lover was in.

His bloodshot eyes stared at me like a culture, muscles tense and bulging in his obvious state of rage.

"Ry-" He growled, crossing the room in what seemed like a single step and grabbing me by my hair.

"Are you fucking trying to steal my shit?" He roared.

I closed my eyes and winced, but my fear only seemed to amuse him.