Daisy is the soft-hearted mother of one with a dark past and an ex husband she's running from. She's spent the past six months building a new life for her and her daughter, Hope, trying to blend into the world around them. Her memories are tainted...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
S e v e n m o n t h s p r e v i o u s:
February 2nd - the day before I left:
I lay in the comfy small bed, bones aching, skin bruised, face burning from cuts. I let my pain float away into the memory foam, as I sunk into the mattress. The thin blanket hid all evidence, but I could still feel it. I knew the scars were there.
Last night was officially the worst night of my life.
I'd spent months tolerating Roberts wicked behaviour. His outrageous mood swings had increased these past few weeks, he was attacking me at least five time's a day now. I'd become accustomed to his usual three times a day that, as much as I'd love for it to stop, I'd rather it be that then five time's a day. Because we all knew he wasn't going to stop. That was too much to ask.
So last night he'd flipped out over various things.
He was already fuming with me for inviting the painter and decorator in, which he organised. What did he expect me to do? Leave the man standing outside the door because he wasn't in.
He had never acted up before over other men, but then again I'd never been in this situation.
Then there was the disastrous business deal gone wrong at work. Apparently the deal he wanted didn't work out, I wasn't quite sure what about, I was too busy blocking out his almighty yelling as he screamed at me. I'd managed to figure out a way where I could just pretend it wasn't happening. Maybe I'd just become so used to it I learnt how to ignore his words.
By midnight he had completely lost his patience with everything, and decided to come looking for me. He was like a predator stalking out its prey. He'd sneak up on me, and pounce. And me, being the innocent, weak victim, had to suffer every time. I was too scared to fight back; frightened what threats he might throw, or how much worse it might get if I did.
When he reached the bedroom last night, face crumpled with disgust, he wasted no time torturing me.
"You just had to piss me off didn't you?"
"Pardon?" I'd asked, taken back by his sudden outrage
"You! You always did something."
"I'm sorry, what did I do?"
"First the decorator, then you put me off my presentation so I didn't get the deal I wanted, and then now I can't print anything off because the printer is still broken!"
I was supposed to fix it, but I'd completely forgot. The day had been hectic, especially having a child to take care of.
