Say Cheese!

Chapter 1: Leaving

"You can't just quit like this! I have been trying to make this work why can't you at least give it a chance!" Ty yells at me as I pack my things, "Oh my God Kelsey! You don't give a shit about this relationship do you?"

"Ty, I don't give a shit about being treated like it everyday. I gave this a chance for months and, by god, I wish I had left when I realized this was a dead-end relationship. It would've been better for both of us!" I spit at him, seething with hatred.

I'm almost out the door when I hear him come up behind me and grab my hair, keeping me back, "You might be able to get away for now, but I will find you, babe. This can work! It will work! I love you! Don't worry, I'll be there to save you again."

I escape his grasp and race down the stairwell, trying to get anyway away from him. I find myself on a bench near the beach in Brighton holding back tears and trying to catch my breath. I don't mean to, but I always hold my breath and get dizzy. I know I am having a panic attack but it's too late to stop it now, just gotta let it pass. I sip my water and just let myself cry quietly. I can't stand the silence of the beach so I put in my headphones and blast Paradise Fear's song "Warrior". Singing along silently, I can feel my pulse slowing and my breathing evening. It takes a few more minutes before I feel that I am capable of standing, and when I finally do, I have a massive headache.

It's pretty easy to guess that I wouldn't be sleeping at home for a while, so I picked up a honey lemon tea from this little stand on the street and hopped on the first train I could find to London. The train ride went well. I sat alone sipping my tea, listening to music, and drawing in the new frost in the corner of the windows. I texted my parents and my dad said he would pick me up at the station the minute the train unloaded us. He was lying because the minute I stepped off that train there he was, but he wasn't smiling.

"Kelsey Grace Adamms. So it's okay to disappear from our lives then just reappear whenever it's okay for you? That's not okay! You're mother and I have lots to go over with you about your disrespectful behavior and ..."

He kept talking but I just spaced out. He yelled at me even though he knows nothing about me. He thinks he knows me but he really doesn't and I wasn't in the mood to explain it all to him. What's the point of hurting myself more than I'm already hurt. I laid my head against the car window and let him attack me with words. He can't break someone who’s already broken.

When we got to my childhood house, I instantly hopped out of the car and raced toward my one safe place with tears streaming down my face. The little cupboard at the back of my room was just my size so I crawled into it and had myself a good cry. After I dried out, I got the courage to go into the lounge and be pounded with words.

My guess was instantaneously made into a reality as both my parents yelled and yelled. I sat on the couch stoically pretending like it didn't hurt. After half an hour of constant bantering, I asked if I could use their wireless internet. At this interrogation, they agreed but fumed about the reason I would need it to themselves quietly.

Immediately after gaining the pass code, I pulled up the page on airline tickets and found one that could get me away from this never-ending punishment for a crime I didn't know I had committed. I am just a person and I don't deserve to be tortured and abused. I picked out a ticket to New York City that left at the end of the day.

"Mother, Father, I have a flight to catch at 6:45 this afternoon, can one of you drive me there at six?" I asked.

They looked at me completely baffled by the thing I had just asked, and then my father nodded, "Thank you, now will you please excuse me, I need to go make some calls."

I stood up and I left the room, pride flowing through my veins. First, I called my bank to make sure I could afford this and have enough to afford rent for a month, and the nice lady at the bank thought it was possible. Now that my economic standpoint seemed stable enough, I needed to call my doctor and therapist.