Savior

The Boy at the Bar

*The paragraphs in italics are flashbacks of the events leading up to the first time He hit her*

If you told me a month ago that I would be standing in front of some dingy bar on a Saturday night with a girl I am barely friends with I would probably laugh in your face and then fall into a panic attack.

And yet, here I am.

The neon sign flashing Amnesia in front already has my stomach churning, but it's the group of rowdy men stumbling from the open door that has me trembling so hard my teeth are chattering.

I was only living with Him for a few months when He showed up at my friend's house with whiskey on His breath and a glazed over anger in His eyes, commanding me to come home with Him. And like I always did - I obeyed.

And that was only the beginning of His many drunken nights.

All I can feel is Eliza gently grasping my arm to pull me inside and I resist the urge to yank it away. I have been living in Cheshire for two months today and she wants to celebrate. Eliza and I have grown considerably close in the last few weeks which surprised not only me, but her also.

I like Eliza for many reasons, but the main one is that she doesn't pry into my business. Ever. I can tell that she is dying of curiosity, but she refrains from asking me any personal questions and I couldn't be more thankful. But, that also means that she has no idea how much social anxiety and fear I had built up over the years.

Which is probably why she begged me to go to this bar tonight without properly considering how I would fair with dozens of drunk people crammed into a small dark space, bumping into me, being loud and abrasive...

I halt on the sidewalk suddenly, causing Eliza to jerk back and look at me worriedly. But, once she sees my panic stricken face, her expression softens,

"Hey, don't worry. I'll be right next to you the whole time, okay?" Just because she didn't ask questions doesn't mean that she doesn't know something isn't right, "We'll just pop in for a bit and then leave. You need to get out more -all you do is work and then go home. This is a new city, a new you."

And those words are all it takes for me to follow her into the bar. She's right. This is my fresh start and it's better to just rip off the band-aid by hanging out in a bar rather than gathering up the courage to walk up to a male employee at the grocery store.

I would later find out that I couldn't have been more wrong.

A soon as we walk through the threshold I am hit with the stench of liquor and regret. The bar is immersed in darkness -only a few overhead lights actually work and the rest just blink in and out. There aren't as many people as I had thought -just a handful sitting at the bar, a dozen on the small dancefloor, and small groups of people playing pool and sitting in the booths.

It eases my anxiety slightly, but not by much.

It's my seventeenth birthday when He drags me to a bar for the first time. He has to slip the bouncer a fifty for him to let me in -something I would never hear the end of. All of His friends sit in a booth, but no one I know is there and I haven't experienced His wrath yet, so I complain and He buys me a shot to shut me up. And another and another and another.

It's my seventeenth birthday when I get drunk for the first time. It's that same night that I find myself stumbling into His bed, His eager and drunk hands stripping the both of us down and leaving sloppy kisses all along my body, and His aggressive and sloppy thrusts bringing Him to His end.

It's my seventeenth birthday when I lose my virginity. It's the next morning that I don't remember it.

My eyes never leave the dirty cement floor as Eliza leads us towards the back of the bar. I try to keep my trembling hands still to no avail, my mind tries to block out all of the noise, and I refuse to let my thoughts wander to bad places as I immerse myself in a place that reminds me of horrible things.