"What are strong men like yourselves doing?" A voice sounded through the dark alley. A woman appeared. Her voice held a slight British accent.
"Teaching some punks a lesson," the largest of the five bullies said gruffly. He eyed the woman hungrily...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
《《 ☆ 》》
Marlene had woken up with a pounding headache. She knew it was the after-effects of the inhuman amounts of alcohol she had consumed last night after a drinking contest with Dugan she was determined to win, and she did win. While the after-effects of alcohol might seem extreme to most, especially the migraine, she found that it did not hurt as much as she had expected it to. She also found that it deeply reminded her of the headaches she was frequently graced with.
She dressed in a flowy white blouse, and dark skirt. Her blonde hair was curled at the ends, and he typical dark red lips were in top shape. As she was about to get her shoes on, someone knocked on her door.
"Just a minute!" she called, walking towards the door.
The moment she had opened it, she slammed it shut once more.
Charles stood at her doorstep. It took all Marlene's willpower not to run for it at the sight of him. He is the only man she has ever been afraid of. Everytime she saw him, she heard his voice shouting at her. She saw him throwing a bottle of bourbon at her. She heard him degrade her. She saw him approaching her, expecting things she was not ready for.
It took all of Marlene's will not to beat the living daylights out of him. He had made her feel weak. He made her feel like everything that went wrong in someone's life was her fault. He had made her afraid. He had made her feel horrible. He had made her wish she had never been born.
And she hated him for that.
He made her feel afraid.
The day he had thrown the bottle at her, the day he had tried to force himself upon her, that was the day she had left. That was the day she had given up on trying to help him. That was the day Marlene started becoming who she is today, who she was before Charles tried to change her.
"What do you want?" she asked after collecting herself.
"I wanted to apologize."
"I don't have time for this-"
Charles stuck his foot in the door, his green eyes were pleading. "Five minutes, please."
"You have thirty seconds to remove your foot before I shoot it," she growled.
"I'm sorry," he said quickly, moving his foot. His eyes bore into Marlene's. His eyes were those of sorrow, of pleading. Hers were of fire, of hatred. "I'm sorry for how I treated you. I-I should've realized that you were the best thing that has ever happened to me. I should've stopped drinking when you told me it was unhealthy. I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you."
Charles's drinking was where it all began. He had blamed his addiction on her. He had blamed it on her for not being a good partner, for not being pretty enough. That's where it all started. Before that, the two were happy. Blissfully happy.
