Emily, Come Home

Two

 His soft snoring was my sign. He was finally out cold. I slid out from underneath his arm and carefully got out of bed. He shifted slightly before pulling the cover over his head. I grabbed my bag and tiptoed towards the door. As I pulled it open, it creaked quietly. I turned to make sure he was still asleep before creeping out of the room.

I moved as swiftly and as silently as I could towards the front door. I unlocked the doorknob and the deadbolt, but there was a third lock that required a key. I looked around on the table and the counter, hoping that he had left it lying around.

"Looking for something?" His voice pierced the silence, causing me to jump. "What are you doing, Em?"

"N-nothing," I stuttered as I backed away. He moved forward, and with each step he took, I took two steps back until I hit the wall.

"Tsk, tsk," he clicked his tongue. "Did you really think that I hadn't considered the possibility of you sneaking out while I was asleep? Em, you must take me for a fool."

"Stay back," I demanded shakily. He smirked as he stepped forward.

"Or what?" I reached into my bag and pulled out the gun. His eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, come on, Em. You wouldn't really shoot me."

"Don't be so sure," I spat as I aimed the gun at him. He took another step towards me. I put my finger on the trigger. "Just give me the key, Gerard."

"Ahh, I can't do that." He stepped closer.

"Not another step, or I will fucking shoot you," I warned. He shrugged as he took yet another step. I closed my eyes and pulled the trigger.

Click

He chuckled to himself before he took the gun from me.

"Em, a gun only works if it's loaded. Now, let's go back to bed. I'm tired." He grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the bedroom. I crawled into the bed, crushed by defeat.

My one chance to escape was a failure.

He laid down behind me and pulled me into his arms. As he nestled his face in the crook of my neck, he let out a sigh of content.

"You'll never get rid of me, you know. Even if you could get out, I'd just find you again. The only way you'd escape me for good is if you were to die. Don't do that though. It'd make me cry," he smirked. As we laid in silence, my mind raced.

There was no escape. I would spend the rest of my life trapped in his bipolar fantasy. There was no level of trust that would convince him to let me go. There was nothing I could say or do that would reverse the fact that I pulled a gun on him, with the intent to actually shoot him.

He pulled me closer to him as he drifted off to sleep. His soft snores echoed in my ear. As I laid in the darkness, it became painfully apparent.

Death is my only escape.