. thirty days

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DAY ONE, BEGINNINGS IT was a summer of Freddie. it definitely hadn't started out that way, but it was the way it ended. by the end of that summer, we'd spent almost everyday together, not officially, not on purpose, but we would come together, subconsciously searching each other out. like two magnets, like two halves finding solace in being whole. I would always remember the first day though. the sun beat down and most people were escaping the heatwave anyway they could, I'd stolen the flowers that were blooming from my mother's hedge and tucked them into my ponytail, every memory of that day is soaked in the scent of jasmine flowers. I borrowed my dad's truck to head into town, to escape the four walls of the ranch and spend time with someone my own age, someone that didn't share my DNA. someone that wasn't harping on about college. THE truck was a menace to drive, the clutch slipped, the gears jammed, the vinyl seats were hot and sticky against my legs. it had a tendency of breaking down, but I'd been using it all summer and for once it seemed to be on its best behaviour. it was only a matter of time before my luck ran out. despite my fathers warnings, I hadn't been watching the dial on the dash creep higher, but I did notice the loud bang and the acrid smoke pouring from the engine. I explored a lot of cuss words that my daddy wouldn't have been proud of that day. I kicked that truck hard enough to bruise my toe, and I used a few more cuss words. the road was quiet, my phone was out of range so I sat on the tailgate of my daddy's truck and I pouted. I can't say I've ever been proud of my temper, but at least on that occasion there wasn't anyone to witness it. BY the time he came along i had simmered. enough for him to warrant a smile with his dry comments. "run into a little trouble, did ya?" He comments with a smile but his smile was so handsome I don't let myself get upset, I only smile back. "something like that" I reply lamely "think you could give a strange girl a ride?" HE wasn't a stranger though, I'd gone to school with him for most of my life, but perhaps the summer sun had done him good. he'd grown half a foot, filled out in all the right places, his smile was brighter against his tanned skin and he seemed to have lost his quiet reservations. "how could I say no?" with more charm then I thought him capable of and I didn't hesitate. THE ride was awkward at first, pegram was a small town, it was hard I admit that you barely knew someone you'd seen nearly everyday of your life. "are you still dating Tara?" I broke the silence, hoping to find some casual comments to make. the two were basically inseparable for most of their lives, it had always been Tara and Freddie but since everyone hit puberty it was Tara and Freddie in a whole different way. Tara apparently had the inside scoop on just how handsome he would turn out to be. "Tara?" he chuckled and I frowned politely, trying to understand his tone. "Tara and I aren't like that, we're just friends" I feigned surprise where I only really felt a smug sense of relief. he dropped me at the auto shop with a smile and a "see you around" and he didn't know just how right he was.

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DAY TWO, ACCUSATIONS "WHY "the fuck do you have to flirt with every fucking guy at my firm" I'd been getting dirty looks all night, and I knew this was coming. I fought my instincts to snap at him, to tell him to fuck himself and his firm, but I just dropped my gaze to my lap and gave a him a sorry shrug. he was all but soaked in scotch, he reeked of it, the back of the taxi cab seemed smaller by the moment as he made himself bigger by looming over me. I don't know what joy he got from this. what part of him was so lacking that this was the way he chose to treat someone he 'loved'. I had long let go of any hopes that he could be saved or changed or that our relationship could work. I spent most of my time negotiating the minefield that was my marriage. it was an exhausting endeavour of holding my tongue and being his yes man. I'd always considering myself a strong woman, but I knew now I just had never been challenged. and now that I had been, I knew that I was truly weak. HIS fingers grip my arm tightly and the accusations continue in hushed, scotch laden words. he's adept at not bringing attention to himself, the taxi driver hasn't bothered to cast a single look back to us. but I knew that once we were away from prying eyes, those words were going to be the least of my troubles. AS soon as the door closed behind us, he was unleashed. he wasn't the charming boy i knew in high school, he wasn't even the man I'd married. I knew it was coming, but the back of his hand struck my cheek with such force I saw stars. I stumbled in the tall elegant heels but managed to keep my feet, surprisingly. tears automatically spring to my eyes. no matter how many times it still catches me off guard, I still hurts both physically and emotionally. my hands fly to my face and I wimper, trying to be quiet in my misery so as not to antagonise him. "YOU "stupid fucking slut, look at you! dressed up like a fucking whore, you were just asking for all of them to look at you, just fucking begging for it." I can never win. he'd chosen this dress, I hadn't even fought him on the slinky number. I was tentative, but I could tell with all the executives in attendance he wanted to make an impression. he wanted to show off his wife. and this is where it got me, one of his seniors commented innocently on my dress to make conversation and he'd taken it the wrong way. "I'm sorry" I whimper and I barely recognise myself, I don't recognise the sound of this mewling little girl. "shut the fuck up" he snaps and follows through with a punch that I attempt to brace for. it doesn't work. it never does. I hit the ground this time. I can hear the expensive gown rip somewhere, I hit the ground so hard a shoe has fallen off. I can feel blood, hot and wet, trickling down my face and I'm surprised. he's never usually so obvious, or quiet so brutal but he's never usually this drunk or this angry so I can't predict what's coming anymore. MY face burns, I can feel my eye swelling, he's stooping over, screaming accusations that I can't make out, spittle flying from his lips and I don't even flinch as it showers me. spitting on me is the least he could do. the angry vicious words don't stop and he's screaming for me to get up, I shake all over and can't co-ordinate the movements as tears stream down my face. he's grabs a fistful my hair and helps me up as I squeal. I can't take anymore, I tell myself, I'm too weak for this. one more punch and maybe I could just lay down and die and it could be the end of this hell. IT'S not nearly that easy though. I wobble on unsteady legs and one stiletto and he's in my face again, screaming that no one else will want me now. he follows with another right hook and I'm on the ground again. I curl up, sobbing quietly as I still try desperately not to provoke anymore attacks but it's not that easy. not when I've made him so angry. his brand new wing tips feel like knives in my back, I try to arch away from his savage kicks and stomps but it's no use. he'll connect eventually and the more I evade him the more angry he gets. MY hands cover my face, as I lay curled up on the ground. my body is covered in searing pain that is new, even to me. I struggle to take a breath between my sobbing and an excruciating pain in my chest. I can't see out of my left eye, but the barrage stops and I toss up between being thankful it had stopped and wishing he would just keeping going until I was dead. FOR a few moments there is quiet and still and it seems like I've once again come out the other side, but he grabs my wrist roughly and I know now that's it was merely just the eye of the storm. he foot comes down, once, twice, I lose count and merely curl up tighter against the beating. he starts to aim for my face and through the fury I here his muttered accusations "you make me do this, you always make me do this" and that's the last I remember.