Breaking Free

Chapter 1

*Mentions of rape, violence, and suicide attempt*

I lay there while Monroe finished his business. I learned long ago to stop fighting him when he wanted sex. It saved a lot of fighting, and boy was I tired of fighting.

My eyes closed as his hand slipped around my neck. Another week of wearing a scarf, in the middle of summer. His fingers tightened as I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Rolling my eyes, even if they are closed, would result in a beating. My body could barley handle the sex, a beating wouldn't be fun.

Monroe pressed his thumb to the middle of my neck, pressing slightly to make it hard to breathe. This was his game, the funnest part for him. But it also meant he was close to climaxing. My eyes popped open as air became harder to bring into my lungs. He was looking down at me, his usual ocean blue eyes, were a deep blue. The blue of the sky when a nasty storm was coming.

I gripped the sheets, fighting for my breath. I felt myself close to unconsciousness, but before the darkness welcomed me into his boosum, oxygen came rushing into my lungs as my husband's seed rushed into my body. It was over. At least I hoped it was over.

When he finished emptying himself inside of me, he got up and went to the bathroom that was in our bedroom. I heard the shower run and the curtain get pulled back. Okay, so this was the part where he forgets he just forced himself on me. He's going to shower and fix himself up to go out with his friends. And I'll get the house to myself for however long. But it was long enough for me to relax and fix something to eat that he won't yell at me about.

I rolled up in the blankets on the bed. My body was too sore and beaten down to get up and put clothes on. Waiting until he left so I could take a nice bath seemed like a better plan anyway. It's always best to do things when Monroe wasn't there to criticize me or beat me.

I must have fallen asleep because when I opened my eyes next, the room was dark. Rolling over, I grabbed my phone and noticed it was almost 10pm. Holy shit I must have been tired.

The house was silent, so Monroe still wasn't home. Probably out with some bitch he picked up at the bar. That's fine for me, give another girl his issues. Less of him for me to deal with the better.

I crawled out of bed, feeling my joints popped as I did so. Yeah, a nice hot bath seemed ideal. With the blankets still around me, I sauntered over to the closet. Grabbing sweatpants and a t-shirt, I walked to the bathroom.

Things I can do when my husband leaves: light candles, use my good bath salts, turn on a book on my phone, and get high. All of these things were going to put me back to sleep and he'll never know.

I sat in the tub with my forbidden cigarette. The smells of bath water and what I was smoking mixed in with the candles. It made the whole bath take on a spa like feel. Something I definitely need.

Half an hour later, once the water had started to cool, I climbed out. Lotioned up my chocolate skin that was marred in black and blue splotches. I put on my clothes and proceeded downstairs to the kitchen.

Before I could make it the kitchen, I felt a hand grab my arm. I gasped before being yanked back and slammed against the wall.

Ocean blue eyes bore into my soul. Monroe put his hand around my neck, preventing me from moving. He leaned close to my face as if he was going to kiss me. But he didn't. Of course he wasn't going to kiss me. Monroe hasn't kissed me in close to a year. And that's because I ended up in and out of the hospital for miscarriages.

He sniffed me, making a disgusted face. Before I knew it, he slapped me, but I didn't move. Moving only made it worse.

"I thought I told you, no weed in my house."