Freedom
I year; a whole year. I chose him over me. I did everything for him and it left me empty handed. The day I, finally had enough, I called the cops. After forty five minutes of standing by the bus stop covered in bruises, the black and white beast turned into the apartment complex. They spoke to him as if he had the best citizenship award and obviously, he didn't mean to hurt me if he had. I cried buckets trying to be heard. Their eyes glossed over me as if I were merely tattle telling. Eventually, the officer nearest to me offered to take me to a shelter for my safety. I saw Chris's eyes darted me. His rage always felt like trying to fight the sun. I could f eel his burn from afar and quickly accepted the escape route. As I packed my things I could hear him trying to convince them to let me stay. Embarrassed, I almost stayed. He had a way of flustering my emotions. Confused, I looked at the wall. The wall was busted open with a hole the same shape as my head. My arms covered in his hand prints. Pain stomping down my body. The truth guided me out the apartment with a new found determination to never ever be a victim again. I didn't want my life to be a sob story of abuse and heart ache. I wanted happiness and adventure. All I had to do was create it.
