Don't Feel Guilty

Chapter One

Hi all! I'm Alexa, and I've been on Wattpad since 2011. 

However, I haven't really signed in since 2014. I wrote my most-read work "Military Love" back when I was 15 years old and I didn't realize what a hit it was until I signed back on. 

Now, I'm 24, I've lived in two other cities, and I am a full-time reporter covering COVID-19, government and healthcare. To get through this pandemic, I figured it would help if I started writing for fun again. So here I am, starting again in October of 2020. 

Looking forward to hearing your thoughts, seeing old and new fans and grabbing some votes. Please feel free to message me with what you think - my inbox is always open :) 

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"Where are you, bitch?"

He had just gotten back home, slamming the front door shut after he walked in and was screaming my name. 

"Ava, where the hell are you," he shouted again as I heard his boots slam against his living room's hardware floor. 

He got out of work at 3:30 p.m. and it was now 9:15 p.m. Which means that he had almost six hours to get completely belligerent. Lines of coke in the bathroom in some grimy bar, hitting on the bartender that was likely older than him and taking Tito's shots in between mixed drinks. 

And then when he's finally good and angry-- for what, I don't know, but perhaps my existence -- he comes home to me. 

I started to hear him climb the stairs, hearing each thud like the next. 

Shit.

I was just out of the shower and still dripping wet with a towel wrapped around me when I closed the door to the bathroom and flicked the lock on the door, which was nearly 80 years old on a door that was less than an inch and a half thick. 

My heart was pounding as I turned my back to the door and slid down on it, sliding down to the floor.

Thud. Thud. Thud. 

Step four. Step five. 

"Ava, get out here," he grunted. "I know you're up here." 

Step seven. Step eight. 

I looked down, my hair in knots as I didn't even have time to brush it yet before he came home. 

He pounded on the door hard three times, that matched the thud of his boots on the stairs. My heart thudded in my chest, rattling me. Fuck, how did I let myself get here, trapped in a cramped, galley-sized bathroom that any normal-sized adult would have to turn sideways to get to the toilet. 

"AVA, OPEN UP THIS FUCKING DOOR," Eli shouted as he banged on the door again, which rattled and hit my back hard. The hinge would go, I was almost certain of it. 

I put my head in my hands. Why did I trap myself in here with no clothes or even a window. 

Eli shook the door knob hard, as if it was going to fall off, and I could imagine his hot breath on my skin as he screamed at me. I didn't know how to deal with this again. 

The door slammed against my back. Was he taking his entire body weight to the door? 

"Stop it, Eli," I shrieked. "You need to calm down." 

He kept slamming himself against the door and I could hear his breaths, horse and angry. And with each shove against the door, as it hit my back, I knew that anger was pent up, and it was all for me. 

That's when I heard a crack, the latch of the lock snap and the door came crashing on top of me. His footing was loose, but he was still able to grab a fist full of my hair and make me stand up. 

"C'MON AVA, GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE," he screamed. 

"LET GO OF ME!" 

The pain was scorching the top of my scalp as h pulled at the chunk of hair that he had. 

"Okay, okay okay," I shouted. "I'll get up. I'll come out." 

"Nope, you're too fucking late."

He pulled harder than before, to the point where I thought my hair was going to get ripped out of my skull, and it forced me to try to stand and move towards him. He pulled again and it made me trip over a sharp piece of wood that hung off the door, presumably what he just broke off because of him trudging through the door. I felt the scrape from the wood hit my leg sharply, and I knew blood was drawn. 

He pulled again so I was all the way in the hallway as I begged him to stop. 

"Please Eli-" 

And with that I felt a blow to the face, right at my jaw line. And another, right at my temple. 

Then I started to really feel the pulse from my bleeding leg, go thump, thump, thump.

He let go of me. Just two this time?

He stepped over me and bent down, as I was curled up on the floor. 

"That's why you fucking listen to me." 

All I could smell was liquor. Hot breath on my neck that made my skin want to peel off of itself.

He stood straight and headed towards the bathroom as I stayed laying down on the floor. I heard the thud from the door as he slammed the rest of what existed against the wall. 

He started to pee, and all I could hear was his hard-steady stream as I reached out and touched my jawline, feeling the blood that was pooling up on top of a swollen bump. 

He stopped and I forced myself to look up as he passed right by me, walked into the bedroom and slammed the door shut. 

I stayed where I was, laying there still soaking wet and bleeding on the floor with my towel half on, exactly how he liked me most: humiliated.