shoving various items into a bag, i ignored his shouts at me. "where the hell do you think you'll go? you don't have anywhere," he yelled. i didn't even look up as i threw some clothes from the closet into the bag. "it doesn't matter. all i know is, i'm done here, luke. i've put up with too much for too long," i replied. glancing up, i caught sight of my reflection in the mirror. seeing my bruised, swollen eye just made me even more unwilling to budge in my decision.
"stay, we can work this out," he said. "i've made up my mind, you can't stop me," i yelled, ripping on the zipper and shutting the bag. grabbing the handles, i dragged it off the bed and walked past him towards the door. "gabbie, don't you dare," he said menacingly. i whipped around to face him. "you don't scare me anymore," i sneered. "you've broken me down, had your control over me, beat me like a dog, but i'm done. i'm fucking done," i said, getting closer to his face. "you don't tell me what to do," i spit.
suddenly, he lunged at me, pushing me against the wall. shocked, i dropped the bag at me feet as he pinned me against the wall. "you're not leaving," he said in a low growl. he had his hand wrapped around my neck while the other pinned my wrist down. "i see you've found this new courage to stand up to me, but revolts don't usually go down very well. things are the way they are because they work that way. who do you think you are, coming in and acting like you have authority." i could feel his hot breath on my face as his grip around my neck appeared to tighten.
breathing was becoming hard as he continued chiding me. i couldn't focus on anything he was saying, and i refused to meet eyes with him. small specks of light were starting to appear in my vision, and i was terrified he'd never stop. i gasped for air as his cold eyes stared into mine. for the first time, a thought came into my head that i never dared to think. this man didn't love me.
i've told myself time and time again that he was doing the things he was doing because he cared. he just wanted what was best for me. the lectures were to make me better. the sex was to bring us closer. but, this wasn't love. fearing what would happen next and walking on eggshells all of the time wasn't love. make-up sex after a man just hit you wasn't love. this man who stood before me with his hand wrapped around my neck didn't love me, and he never had.
he was still trying to hold his power over me, but i needed to escape. my lungs burned for air, and my vision was becoming more spotty. looking over, i saw a chef's knife lying on the counter. fearing for my life in this moment, i was desperate for any solution to get out of this. my body felt numb as it started operating without me telling it what to do. my brain and body were completely separated as i reached over with my free hand and wrapped my fingers around the handle of the knife.
bringing my arm over quickly, the blade was suddenly inserted into his side. he staggered backwards, releasing his grip on my neck, but i didn't release my grip on the knife. everything i had suppressed was coming to the surface, and i couldn't stop it now. hot, angry tears blurred my vision as i pushed the knife in farther, and he slumped against the counter behind him.
he gasped for air as i had been doing just moments before, and blood seeped out to stain his clothing. scarlet liquid dripped down my hand as i pulled the blade out, and for once, the blood trailing down my skin hadn't been drawn from my own body.
