Prologue

"No please I don't want to, please just get off me" I cried. He was putting all of his weight on me and I couldn't move, not even to struggle, I just had my words, my plea's just hoping that today instead of carrying on he would just listen. "Please please I said no Scott", to think this was the man I thought I loved. Over the past 2 years things had become unbearable, the abuse, physical and emotional was getting worse day by day. Things were bad, I just didn't know how to get away from it. I had tried many times to get away, but he always had a way to get me back. He'd seem genuinely remorseful and that he'd never do it again and being the fool I'd go back. I loved this man so much when things were good, and even though they hardly were I'd cling on to the hope for dear life. He had this power over me like a manipulative magician. "PLEASE SCOTT" I shouted and begged. Bile was rising in my throat burning as it made its way up. Please don't throw up now, just wait until after please. I begged internally to myself. However it wouldn't be the first time I'd physically vomited all over him, and I knew I'd get in big trouble if I did. Just then Scott growled in his throat drawing my attention "so you don't want it then whore?" He snarled. "No please no I don't" I replied. Suddenly his weight lifted and I froze suddenly stuck to the bed. "Well if I can't have you no one else can" and with that he turned and left the room. Banging around I could hear drawers opening and closing in our bijoux kitchen and then his footsteps returned and he was back. He yanked open my chest of drawers so hard the drawer fell to the floor with a loud bang, how my neighbours didn't hear I don't know, maybe they did they just didn't acknowledge it. "Wha.. What are you doing??" I whimpered. He picked up my bra and with the scissors he cut it in two, and continued doing so with all of the other bras and panties that he thought were "sexy". "You won't give me what I want, you're sure as hell not ever wearing provocative clothing ever ever again". As he said the word "ever" he cut the last bra in two threw the scissors at me, left the room and slammed the front door as he left. That could have been so much worse I thought as the silence filled the room like a mist. It certainly was worse the other night, I shuddered at the thought. I curled up into a ball, hugging my knees close to my chest as tight as I could without wincing with pain from my broken ribs and bruises from the brutality I'd endured the other night. I sobbed and sobbed, that man was my entire life, I sure as hell wasn't his, if I was I wouldn't be battered and bruised laying on the bed in a ball sobbing. I'd be happy looking into his big brown eyes and listening to him whisper sweet nothing's in my ear. Huh that fairytale was never going to happen. I was exhausted emotionally I couldn't take it anymore. When he got back he'd be in a worse mood than when he left and then the beating would start. Then and there was when I decided enough was enough and I was walking away, actually hell no, I was running away. For two whole years I'd endured this torture and it had to stop, I had to stop, saying everything's ok and that I'd take him back. I shut the door to my flat and ran to the taxi, the driver turned and looked at me in pure horror. I hadn't put make up on to cover the bruises and I had a fair few visible ones, especially a cracking one to my left eye. "Where to my love?" The driver asked. "I have no idea" I whispered "just get me the hell away from here i'll figure it out on the way" And with that I was on my new journey, god knows where I was going or what I was actually going to do but I'd found my inner strength and I was not ever going back. I sat back in my seat and smiled. Finally I was free.