Some Scars Don't Heal

Two - I Never Had A Choice

I let myself in. The moment I entered the house, I caught the scent of rank beer and cigarettes. Danny was back. I scrabbled behind me for the door handle but it was too late. I felt two strong arms wrap around my waist, and I gave up. After all, where would I run to? Not Holly's. Holly. I felt a sense of resolve. Never, would I let Holly know where I stayed every night. I would not allow her to experience the danger and misery I experienced on a daily basis. Danny pulled me around, and brought my face to his, so the stench of beer invaded my nostrils. Danny's mean, red face looked down on me. I cringed. Despite all the hate I felt for him, he was still handsome, with a square jawed, evenly proportioned face.

"Becky," he purred with obvious satisfaction, "how's my girl?"

I smiled, but my instincts were screaming at me to run.

"I'm good." I tried to twist away from Danny, but he held me tighter.

"Where are you going, Becky?" he asked.

"To my room, I'm exhausted." I tried again to move away.

"Any guys giving you the eye tonight?" I fought the urge to roll my eyes. He always asked this question, even if I was just going to a cafe with Holly. He was so protective of me, it was ridiculous. Despite my hatred of him, I felt a twinge of guilt. Yes there had been boys giving me the eye, Danny. Quite a few. But I can't say this to your face, otherwise you will just blame me for it. But relationships shouldn't be about blame, they should be about trust. But there's the catch. I don't trust you, and you don't trust me. This relationship isn't working, but you don't want to hear that.

"No, not at all." I lied.

"Good. Because you're mine." I nodded, and Danny's arms fell from around me. I started to walk towards the door to the bathroom, but suddenly Danny's red face was in front of mine. His breath was harsh against my cheek.

"All mine! You hear me?" I nodded again vigorously, and scurried into the bathroom. There I let the tears fall. How could God - if there was a God - let a monster like Danny rule my life? He watched my every move and snarled whenever there was a guy in his eyesight. I hated him.

I stared around at the bathroom with its peeling wallpaper and cracked stone floor. This harsh reality was miles away from my little girl fantasies about white brick palacies, with cream sofas and pink faced children in the arms of a strong, capable handsome husband. Instead, I got a titchy tenement flat, with cheap furniture straight from the skip, and a man who doesn't give a damn about what I think.

"Becky?" I blotched my tears hastily with a tissue.

"Are you decent?" I could hear the leer in his voice and knew immediately he had drunk way more than he should have done.

"No!" I tried to sound firm, but all that came out was a croak. I heard a laugh, and the next thing I knew was a thud against the door. A very hard thud.

"What the hell Danny?" I squawked.

"Come on Becky, we don't have locked doors in this house!" There was another crash against the door.

"Give me a second!" I frantically splashed some water onto my face, but there was one last resounding smash, and the door gave way. I turned to see Danny, rubbing his hands together, staring hungrily at me. He moved forwards, and then stopped, a crease appearing in between his eyebrows. I remember a time when I would have wanted to rub it with my index finger. Not any more.

"Why did you want to keep me out Becky?" The glint in his eyes was no longer hungry, it was angry.

"I wasn't decent Danny!" I defended myself. He snorted.

"Like I care about that!" he scoffed. I care, I thought, but that doesn't seem to matter any more.