Runaway Rosie.

Two.

My damp hair still clung to my face, almost causing me to miscalculate my steps and fall down the stairs. I shook my hair back and held onto the side railing until I got to the bottom of the steps. I rounded a corner and walked around aimlessly looking for the kitchen. I came up to a white, swinging door, about to push it open when I heard harsh male whispers coming from right inside.

"Mum, you can't just let strangers in the house! She could be a drug addict, or, or a stripper for Christ's sake!"

"Harold!"

"What?! There's a possibility!" I pushed open the door and side-stepped inside.

"I'm neither of those." I whispered, looking down.

"See? She's harmless." I looked back up and met his eyes. I cringed back under the emerald glare.

"You're scaring the poor girl, go into the living room."

"Whatever." He said in a monotone voice before stomping out of the kitchen, trying to slam the swinging door, but miserably failing.

"He's just a little grumpy from his long flight. He'll loosen up. Here sit down, I've made some tea." I sat opposite of her at the circular dinner table.

She handed me a teacup and took a sip from her own, scrunching up her face and adding more sugar to it, then taking another sip. 

"Ahh, that's better. So, tell me about yourself." I squirmed, suddenly uncomfortable. I fiddled with the small handle on the teacup, suddenly interested in its smooth texture.

"How about I just ask you basic questions and you just answer if you feel comfortable, yeah?" I nodded at her, keeping my head down.

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"Are you married?"

"Yes." I said lowly.

"When did you get married?"

"Two years ago."

"Why so young? I'm sorry if I'm being nosy, I'm just trying to help.."

"It's fine..We met when I was a freshman, he was a senior. My parents had died in a house fire when I was nine, my Grandpa soon followed with cancer. After that I went to stay with my Grandmother, but she ended up dying a few years later of a broken heart. So when I turned sixteen, he was twenty at the time, he offered to take me in. We married right away."

"Have you finished school?" I shook my head. 

"I wasn't allowed to. I was kept locked in the house. He told people that I was homeschooling, but that was a lie. He didn't want people to see me."

"He didn't want people to know that he hurt you..."

"Yeah." My voice was barely audible.

I'd never admitted to being abused, but nobody had ever asked. My husband was the 'perfect' person, if someone was to see me, he would just tell them I was clumsy and they'd believe it.

"Why did you wait so long to leave?"

"I was scared and didn't know any better."

"I understand." She grabbed my hands and enclosed them in her own.

"You're welcome to stay here as long as you want sweetheart. Alright?" I nodded my head at her again.

"Well, Harry said he's going to make dinner, so let me go get him. If you're finished with your tea you can just put in in the sink and I'll wash it later." She stood up and disappeared behind the swinging door. I got up shortly after, taking my now cold drink over to the sink.