(I'm not) your Barbie doll (ON HOLD)

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

   As we stepped into the hairdressers, Kendrick clutched my hand tightly and half-dragged me to the desk. I bit my lip to hold in the squeak that I wanted to let out from the pain in my hand. After telling the stylist what I wanted doing, Kendrick told me he'd be back in an hour. I nodded and stayed put. "Are you sure you want this doing? You've got lovely hair." The stylist asked me as she ran her fingers through my hair. I shook my head. "Then why?"

"Many reasons." I muttered. I ran them through my head quickly and then stood up, ripped the gown from me neck and said "I'm sorry, I can't do this."

"Well, what shall I tell your boyfriend?" She asked as I walked towards the door.

"Nothing but the truth; that I couldn't go through with it and I'm sorry." She nodded and I walked - well, actually, I ran. I ran from the town centre and towards a long, and rarely used, country lane. Tears streamed down my face as I knew he would be angry with me. I ran along the streets, grateful that I used to take part in a lot of sport at school.

   "Woah, darlin'! Where's the fire?" A voice asked me as I ran into an obstacle. I looked up to see a tall guy with his hands on my upper arms and concern in his voice. He saw my face and pulled me away from the edge of the curb and near the gate to an empty field. "What is it?" He asked me. I bit my lip and shook my head. I started to cry again as I thought about Kendrick. I was scared again as to what would happen when he saw me next and found out that I wouldn't have it done. I instantly threw myself into the guys arms and cried my heart out. He just shushed me and rubbed my back as I muttered out garbled sentences between gasps of much-needed air. "Come, come with me. I'll take you back to my house so you can calm down." He told me. I was starting to hyperventilate and feel very dizzy. I nodded weakly and he put an arm around my shoulder before he led me along the country lane and towards a big house that stood on its own.

"Will you help me?" I asked him on the way to his house. He nodded and told me he'd help me with anything.

   He sat me down at a kitchen table and handed me a glass of water. I took long gulps of the cool water and slowly, very slowly, my breathing started to normalise. When I was breathing normally, he handed me some tissues and I wiped my eyes. I then realised that I must have had awful streaks of dark make up running down my cheeks. I wiped at my cheeks and under my eyes before looking at the guy. His expression was heavy with concern. "Th...thank you." I muttered as I sent him a weak smile. He shook his head in a 'don't mention it' sort of way and came and sat opposite me at the table.

   He took my hand, that was resting on the table, in his own and said "What is it? What's wrong?"

I shook my head and said "I can't say."

"Well, I can't help you if you won't tell me what it is that you need helping with." He said solemnly.

I bit my lower lip and said "I shouldn't. I shouldn't tell and I shouldn't unload on you. I'm sorry. Thank you for helping me." as I stood up and walked towards the door that led to the hallway.

   "Woah, no! No, you should tell me." He said, getting up and grabbing my wrist. My eyes instantly went wide and started to water. I snatched my hand back. Fear must have been masked on my face because he instantly stepped back and put his hands up lightly as a sign that he wasn't going to hurt me. I continued to retreat towards the door, staring at him and then stopped as I was against the door frame. I was stood with my back to the exit and I had a flashback of Kendrick and me a month after we'd first met and started going out.

   "Kendrick, what are you doing?" I asked as I stared at him and saw the anger on his face that mirrored my confusion. I had only told him that I didn't want to go to another one of his friends 'parties' that ended with him drunk and me having to watch him get into a fight and then get shouted at as I helped him walk to the curb and wait for a taxi.

   We were currently at his house and he had just mentioned the party tonight. 'No' I'd told him. He had then started to come towards me and had his hand digging into my abdomen. "We're going to go to the party and we're going to have fun and be that perfect couple that everyone envies. And you, my sweet, are going to be the doting girlfriends that all of my friends are jealous of, okay?" I nodded and tried to step back slightly. I was already pressed up against the door frame and couldn't get away from him. He saw that there was no enthusiasm in my response and said "We're going to have a good time. Yes?" He was starting to growl slightly.

"Yes." I squeaked out as he dug his hand in harder. I was biting my lip harder to stop myself from screaming out in pain.

He then nodded, said "Good. I'll see you later, babe." and kissed me fiercely on the lips. He still hadn't removed his hand. When he pulled away, I smiled weakly at him, which made him dig his hand in quickly and sharply, making me squeal out in pain and fall to the floor.

   I slid down the door frame and crumpled in on myself as I cried silently. He was kneeling down beside me now and he was close, so close I could hear his breathing. I saw out of the corner of my eyes that he went to put his hand on my - now pressed to my chest - knee but thought against it when he saw my body tense up slightly. "What is it? Please tell me, I want to help."

"My boyfriend." I muttered as I wiped at my eyes.

"What about him? Did he break up with you?"

I shook my head. "He...ummm, he b-" I stopped myself as I was about to say 'beats', but that sounded so cruel and barbaric. "...he h...hits me." I concluded. Tears started to trickle down my cheeks. He put his arms around me and pulled me close to him. I didn't flinch away or tense up, I just enjoyed the closeness without having to feel afraid that I would be hit if I didn't meet 'standards'. I lent into his chest and cried away.

   "How long has he been doing this?" The guy - whose name I still didn't know - asked me.

"About three and a half months." I whispered.

"So, why haven't you broken up with him?"

"I'm scared to."

"And does anybody know, apart from me, that he does this to you? Your parents, friends, siblings?" I shook my head. "Have you ever thought about going to the police?"

I shook my head violently and said "And then what would happen when he got out?"

"We'd look after you." He said simply, a small and gentle smile resting on his lips.