Something About You

2- The First Time.

*back in time* 

I was sitting on the sofa just looking at my phone to check the time. It was almost four in the morning. I called him thousand times and he wouldn't pick. I left him texts as well, and nothing. I was just praying nothing bad happened to him. Fifteen minutes later there was a noise, some keys, a familiar sound, I knew it was him. A feeling of relief took over my body. I just wanted him to be safe. He finally unlocked the door  and came in. You could easily tell
he was drunk, again. He was trying to stand still, but he didn't have control over what was going on.

"Oh god, not again" I whispered to myself. "Ryan, are you okay? I was so worried, I called you and left you tons of messages, why didn't you answer any of them? I just wanted to know if you were okay. Look at the time" he was just looking at me with narrowed eyes. "I was working, we've already gone through this many times. JUST GET IT ALREADY!." he yelled making me feel something I've never felt before. It was some kind of fear, but I shook my head and rejected it. "You've been drinking again, you should just get some rest. I'll prepare some tea, and you'll be better" he didn't say anything, he stayed calm just sitting on a chair in the living room.

When the tea was ready I went closer and tried giving it to him. "You shouldn't work like this" I tried stroking his hair, "stop" he said interrupting my words and actions. "baby...this is doing no good for you" "STOP!" he yelled moving his hands reaching the cup in my hand making it fall and all the boiling water ran down on me as the cup got broken on the floor. "Damnit!" I tried not expressing the pain of the incredibly hot water running down through my legs.

A tear fell down to my cheek. "You didn't need to do that, I was just taking care of you" "Yeah, my bad, whatever. Go clean yourself up" I tried my hardest not to pay attention to any of that, because I knew he was under the influence of alcohol. "Come here", he said grabbing my arm tightly. He brought me closer to him and started kissing me. "Please, stop" I tried saying between kisses.

I don't know how but I got the power to push him aside. He was faster and stronger than me and grabbed me even tighter. After saying some other words he just looked done, he closed his eyes trying to avoid all the things shaking his head, I was talking and just like that, he slapped me across my face. "Shut up!" he said, I touched my cheek in disbelief, tears coming out of my eyes, it didn't hurt me physically as much as it did emotionally. I couldn't believe he actually had the balls to do that. My reaction made him realize that what he did, was definitely not right at all. I just went upstairs locking myself in the room and cried myself to sleep.

The next day I woke up feeling the pain from the night before. I went to the bathroom to see what was all about and noticed my cheek was swollen and I had a little scratch, it wasn't a big deal but it definitely hurt. I grabbed some medicine and cleaned it up. I could just let myself cry. I know it was all because he was drunk, but I couldn't believe it. I went out afraid he was gonna be there. But surprisingly, he wasn't. I didn't know what to do, I didn't want to tell anybody.

The following months I just acted like that never happened, the afternoon of the day after he did that, he came with flowers apologizing about it. Promising me it was never going to happen again. I did believe it.

He remained sober for over a month. I eventually changed my habit of staying up late waiting for him, then after that month he would just do the same over and over.

He would come and he knew I was gonna accept whatever he wanted because he knew that I was afraid of him doing that again to me. So he used me sexually, yes, "used me" because I didn't really wanted to do any of it. After that he'd come with flowers and believed everything was okay. I used tons of makeup to cover it up, and go to work like if nothing was going on. I didn't want people asking me, I knew he was a good man, and I knew that if I did that, I mean that if I went and actually filed a report for this, he would get arrested or something, I didn't want that.

After months of agony, I finally set my mind straight and I got, God knows from where, the courage to tell him I didn't want anything anymore. Of course he got mad, there was a lot of screaming and he even tried beating me up again, this time he was sober, and I didn't let him. I knew he would attempt to attack me, so I went to talk to him at the middle of the day, in his office. He tried.

There was a lot of crying from me, but I did it. I ended it all and even threatened him saying I was gonna call the police or in the worst case scenario actually going to talk to the police about all the things that he did and eventually, get him arrested for all of it.

"Leah?" I said almost losing my breath. I needed someone, she's been there for me since day one.

"Baby? is everything okay?"

"No. I mean yes, but... no, I'm totally not okay." I started crying so my voice went downhill and the last words were only a whisper.

"What happened? Where are you?"

"I just ended everything. I'm home" she didn't know exactly what had been happening and I wasn't planning on telling her either.

"I'm coming over"

"No! it's alright. I just need time. I'll call you back"

I grabbed my emergency bag. One that I have just in case anything happens– I'm that prepared, and left to the airport, I took a flight and went to Cancun, it sounds crazy but I just needed to leave and the only available flight, was that one. I took it right away and left for a month.

Leah would text me to see if I was okay, even my parents, because I, all of the sudden, stopped going to work. Who does that? Anyway, after a week, I got in touch with them all, didn't tell them where I was but I made sure they knew I was safe, and I was okay, even though, I wasn't emotionally. But after a month on vacation, I was, kind of. I felt like a new me was showing.

Of course I cried for over a whole week, and I didn't get out of bed for that period, but then I started eating and feeling good. I enjoyed that time. Sometimes a getaway makes you clear your mind and feel great about yourself.

He texted me, he called me, like a trillion times, I didn't pick any up. I sent him an email, thanking him for the good times in despite of everything that he did, and asking him to please just leave it like that, that way it would be much easier for us and less problematic for him. He didn't reply but his calls and texts stopped arriving. I felt relieved. Even when I was sad and really disappointed, I felt like I was being freed.

Sometimes, we make the "wrong" choice believing it's the right one, because we feel that way. Sometimes they're good and they follow the right lead, sometimes they just don't work and we have to make the right choice again. I guess it's all about luck.

//ok so this took a bit longer, I've been busy. Thank you guys so so much for commenting. I'm glad you're liking it🙈 Please vote, comment and share if you can. thank you again💕

—α.