The Abnormality Of The Normality

'Are you okay though... seriously?'

The drive to mine is rather tense. It would have been in complete silence if it hadn't of been for the radio. It's not the limo I had seen last night. It's a small jeep. As Hayley concentrated on driving, I sit next to her, leaning my head against the window, deep in my own thoughts. I think about what I would be going home to. I think about how different I felt when I was with Hayley compared to when I was with Jack. I think about how I was going to explain myself to Jack. I am so deep in thought that I don't notice us pulling up outside my house. I don't notice her switching off the ignition and I don't notice the radio turning off. I only notice when she taps me on the shoulder. "hello, earth to Alex" she jokes, a smile plastered on her face "go anywhere nice?" "huh?" I reply in confusion. "Oh, nothing, you were just kind of out of it for the whole journey." She explained. "Are you okay though... seriously?" She asked. "umm yeah I am," I answer, "I've actually got to go now." I lean across without thinking and peck her on the cheek before letting myself out and making my way up the path.

Oh god, what have I done? I look back and Hayley is still sat in the driver's seat. Shock clear on her face but she didn't look upset or angry. If I knew any better, I'd almost say she looked happy about it. I turn back before she can see I'm watching her and continue up to the house. I am praying that Jack isn't home. Why is Hayley still sat there? She needs to leave now. The garage door is shut. I can't see if his car's in there or not. I can't see any lights on so that's a good sign, surely? I turn one final time locking eyes with Hayley one last time before using the spare key under the plant pot to let myself into the building. As I turn to shut the door, I notice Hayley is now on the phone to someone. I wonder who that could be?

As luck might have it, Jack isn't home. He must be at work again, working late. That's odd. His briefcase was still laying on his study desk. I tidy up the paperwork on his desk and hoover around the house. I clean up the pots and pans laying all over the kitchen worktops. I dismiss the fact that there were a set of two for everything. Jack probably just had company over from work. I spend the rest of the day in my studio working on my art. I don't hear the key in the front door. I don't hear the front door open and then close. I don't hear the door behind me open or hear the man walking towards me.

"Where the hell have you been?" He demanded. I could smell the disgusting smell of beer on his breath, If I hadn't of smelt it, I would have guessed it by the way he was staggering towards me. "I told you, I was out seeing a friend." I state. He takes a swing at me and catches me on the side of the face causing me to fall. "Don't you dare lie to me," he spits at me, "now tell me where you have been". Tears begin to fill my eyes as I repeat myself. "I was with a friend." His face has been turning a deeper shade of red. I could now almost see smoke coming out of his ears. He grabs me by the hair pulling me up to face him. "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?" he booms into my face, Spit splattering into my face. "I told you, I was with a friend... that's all" I argue as tears fall down my face. My face felt like it was on fire. Still holding onto my hair, he pulls me out of the studio and throughs me against the stairs. I crumble on the bottom step as he kicks me once, twice, a third time and then storms out the front. Blood is pouring down the side of my face, I'm surprised I'm still conscious to be honest.

After I am sure he has gone, I crawl into the kitchen and prise myself up onto the counter. I wet a piece of kitchen roll and dab at my face, wincing as I attempt to clear myself up. It's only a small cut so I don't think I need any stitches. After about an hour of cleaning myself up I take a couple of codeine tablets to help with the pain and I manage to make my way upstairs to my bed before completely passing out, still fully clothed. I don't hear Jack come home an hour later. I don't notice him tuck me under the cover carefully. I don't notice him getting undressed and getting in next to me.

I am woken the next morning at about 7 by the pain piercing up through my arm. Jack is still fast asleep, snoring obnoxiously loud like a congested rhino. I manage to change into a pair of jog bottoms and a large baggy hoody. I head downstairs taking care not to knock my arm and go into the kitchen to cook some breakfast for him. I fry up some bacon and make him a bacon sarnie. By the time it has finished cooking, Jack has woken up and come downstairs in just his dressing gown. He sits at the table in silence and eats his breakfast, glancing up every so often to examine the state of my face. After eating he takes his plate and places it gently into the sink before walking over to where I had stood leaning against the counter. I wince as he moves his hand up towards my face. I turn slightly in case he is about to hit me but instead he uses his thumb to gently caress the side of my face. "I am so sorry baby. I'd been drinking. You know I'd never hurt you when sober babe." He defends. "I love you honey." I close my eyes as he leans forwards and gently kisses my forehead before going upstairs to get dressed. About 20 minutes later I hear him close the front door and the rev of his car going down the road.