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Novelo Rectangle

When we met, I thought Andrew was my soulmate. We had this instant connection you see in all of the movies you wish were your true story. Our friends and families would longingly tell us to get a room, all the while, wishing they were us.It’s funny how little people see looking in from the outside. A bit like a sitcom, they only saw tiny snippets of our lives and if they saw any problems they were only the ones that could be solved in thirty minutes. What no one ever saw were the tears, the bruises, the days I couldn’t stand to get out of bed. They saw me withdraw from life because I was so in love, not because I was numb and tired of making excuses for why I wasn’t allowed to come . I was losing myself and I had to get out. The reflection in the mirror shattered my hope. I begged for him to change but the dark ring around my eye was proof he didn’t hear me. I stood there unable to move. My bags were packed, my car loaded. Thirteen stairs and fifteen feet between me and freedom and my feet were glued to the floor. What would he do without me? What if I really was someone that no one else wanted just like he had beaten into my head time and again? What if I was more unhappy without him than I was with him?I knew I didn’t deserve this. I knew if I stayed it would only get worse - the drinking, the yelling, the violence. I flinched as I took that first step to liberation, my sore ribs the reminder I need to keep moving. I’m leaving.” I muttered the words quietly, lacking confidence seeing him before me. I kept moving towards the door. He sat in his favorite rust colored recliner with his fingers curled around that familiar blue can. He didn’t spring up angrily as I had expected. Tears welled in his eyes as his bloodshot eyes focused on my busted lip. Tears fell down my own cheeks as I took in what he had become. Prince Charming had deteriorated over the course of a single year. His hands trembled as he sat down the thing he loved more than me on the table beside him. Shaking was normal for him now. Maybe it always was, but he had hidden everything so well , for so long. His thumb grazed the box of ammo, deliberately. Thoughts raced through my head . I remember the good times we had shared, the star gazing , the flowers, those nights we had spent camping. It was hard to remember the good times without all of the incidents that ruined them like the imaginary people watching us, wanting to kill him, the accusations anytime a man glanced for a second too long, the sound of his fist hitting the wall beside my head if laughed a little too loud at someone else’s joke. I remembered the hospital visits, the makeup to cover cuts and bruises, and wearing long sleeves all summer to cover handprints around my arms. All of that, in the space of a few seconds, enough time to see him reach for his nine millimeter. “I’m sorry, baby.” I squeezed my eyes shut bracing for the pain. I heard the shot break the silence of the night. It still echoes in my ears. No pain came. I unclenched my fists and opened my eyes slowly. The scream that came from my body filled the air as I fell to my knees. I’m still not sure if his guilt made him end his life or if it was his last attempt to traumatize me, but I was free.

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Breaking Free

MJ816

Mandy Johnson

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Breaking Free

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Amanda Johnson

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