Running
I stop crying and begging, I stay curled up, and I hear him leave, the sound of the door closing has me breathing. I look around me and see the door. He forgot the key! I peer through my fingers wondering if it’s
a trap.
Staggering to my feet I grab my keys and slowly creep to the door, my hand on the key as I slowly twist it I keep my eyes on the door to the bedroom. He never leaves the key in, I feel panic surging through me as it unlocks and I expect him to come out but he doesn’t.
Opening the door slowly, I sneak out into the hall of the apartments, I begin to move quickly, unwilling to stop. If I consider what I’m doing I will run back, and I can’t go back. I get outside and begin running for my car, my head constantly turning to see if I can see him but I can’t.
As I slip into the car I start the engine and speed away. Speeding tickets for my freedom is worth it. I wipe my eyes trying to calm myself down. I’m out, and new panic sets in as I realise I have nothing, no money, nothing.
I’m safe though, I keep telling myself to remember I am safe. After six hours of driving, I stopped and slept in the car. Making sure it’s hidden just in case he is looking for me. My body hurts, but I don’t have time to consider if there is any lasting damage.
I begin to search the car, he often used the car himself. I search everywhere, finding money hidden in the book of maps. It’s enough for now. I don’t need somewhere great. I use the phone he left in here for when I worked to search for places local to stay.
Running
There are apartments, the ad is honest, they are run down, and will be demolished within two years. Hitting the number I message asking if they have an apartment left.
An hour later I get confirmation it is mine if I’m willing to pay £50 today. I agree and begin driving there.
Stopping the car twenty minutes away, I get my old shoes from the boot. I walk to the apartments, leaving the car so if he does find it, I’m not close. I’m glad it’s late, it means no one can see I’m covered in blood. Walking into the apartments, there are leaks and everything, but I’m not bothered. I find apartment 102 on the second floor, walking to it a man stands there.
“Harley?” He looks at me and I nod. “As I said, it’s run down, old and grubby, £50 a week and it’s yours.” He holds out the keys and looks. over my body, clearly, he has questions, but his building clearly shows. he ignores everything.
“When do I need to pay the next week’s rent?”
“You gave me it for this week, so how about in four weeks you pay for those weeks, and we go from there?” He’s only been nice because of
how bad I look.
Thanking him, I watch him walk off. Unlocking the door I step in and lock it and begin to panic. It can’t be a set–up. I stand by the door taking a deep breath, walking through I ignore everything, checking the cupboards and behind furniture. There’s no one, I’m safe. I walk to the window and peek out of the curtains.
I watch cars and people pass, hours passing by before I sit by the window and fall asleep with my arms wrapped around my legs for comfort. I don’t want to believe I’m free, not yet, it’s too soon.
Running
:
The first day after my escape, I go to the shop and get food for the week, along with a sim card. I ignored the influx of warning messages and calls he had sent before taking out the SIM card and putting in the
new one.
I begin searching online for jobs, applying for a few that are not too close, that way if he happens to walk into the place I’m not local. I check my old number once a week, replying to family, but ignoring his calls and texts.
He’s angry with me, he never made mistakes, but that night he made one leaving the keys in the door. It gave me my escape. I can’t ever go back, and I can’t ever let him know where I am, so I will do everything I can to stay hidden. I will work, and come straight home.
No friends and no going out. The fewer people who know me and the less time I spend outside the less chance there is he will find me. I peer down at the bruises, they will be gone soon. Then there will only be the mental scars remaining, even though I know they won’t go as quickly and easily.
I need to go home to my family, but there’s a chance he will be watching there. Although if he’s smart, he knows I would never go home like this. I wouldn’t walk in and let my daddy see my battered and bruised, and I certainly wouldn’t let him hunt down Joel and kill him. I know he would, he has made it known he will kill for me, and what Joel did, my dad wouldn’t let that go.
So, I won’t go home until I’m fully healed, and hopefully sound- minded. It may take months, but if it stops my dad from finding out and doing something crazy and getting locked up it is worth it. I do. miss him though, it’s been four years since I saw him.
That’s down to Joel, every new bruise made me hide away, not to
11001
mention the past two years I only left with him, and he ensured I was locked up the rest of the time. Soon, soon I will go home and see my dad, I will feel safe with him, even if I only go for a small holiday.