100 Days || Luke Hemmings

Day 1

Flashback:

I shoved the last of my clothes into my duffel bag and put it by the door. This was the last time I would ever have to be here. I had to get out before it was too late. The reason why I am leaving is because of my boyfriend asleep in the next room. He was a perfect boyfriend on paper, but behind closed doors, it was another story. Numerous times I would have been hit until I was numb and would be locked in a room for hours. All of this had gone on for 6 months years too long. This was the only way I could escape. I took one last look at the apartment, and shut the door behind me. 

I ran down the several flights of stairs to the exit, constantley checking he wasn't behind me. I doubt he would be following me but at this point, i'm not taking any chances. I started up my old rusty car and got the hell out of there.

Present:

That was almost 2 years ago now. I was a naïve 17 year old girl who didn't know any better. Ever since that day, I have had a strict rule. I spend exactly 100 days in each place and then leave. I can't deal with my ex boyfriend, Ryan, finding out where I am. I had just arrived in California. Something felt different about this place. I am ment to be in college, but because of my travelling, switching schools 3 times a year isn't exactly the easiest thing to do. I walked up the many flights of stairs until I came to my new apartment. It was very small, but it would do. I quickly unpack the small suitcase of things I have brought with me. I learnt early on that it was easiest to only bring the things you needed and nothing else. Too many memories.

 My mum died when I was 14 in a car crash, and my dad started to drown his sorrows in alcohol. He went to work everyday drunk, and I prayed everyday that he wouldn't be fired. We needed the small amount of money that he earnt to stay alive. As soon as I turned 17, I met Ryan. We both met in a small Italian resturant after we had both been stood up by our dates. Things quickly escalated from their on, and we were in love. But that had may only being me. A few months in our relationship, he would come home and start hitting me for no reason. He would then come back an hour or two later, and apologise and swear it wouldn't happen again. But it did, and when I started to fight back, it was when he started to hurt me not just physically but mentally, calling me things like 'a stupid bitch' and 'slut'. Enough was enough and I had to get out. And who am I? I'm Eloise Radley.