Counting the Stars

Chapter Eleven

   I must have blacked out somewhere between the woods and the car because when I awoke, I was on the cold, moldy cement floor of a basement. Fumbling around for support I lifted myself up into a sitting position. My head throbbed painfully and I brought my hands up to my face, closing my eyes against the dull light that radiated through the room. I heard something scamper around behind me, water dropping onto the floor next to me. Where ever I was, it wasn't pretty. In fact, it was a complete dump. 

   My mind swam, focusing in and out, only taking in little parts of the room at a time. Somebody hit me on the head, hard. My sides throbbed too and I could feel blood covering more than one part of my body. It didn't take a genius to figure out Damien was the one to blame for all this. My memory was foggy but what I did remember involved him. I could remember a fight, between him and Jace. I remembered drowning, waking up with Damien looming over me. 

   And that's mean I remembered he most likely brought me here to die. I was going to meet my fate on the cold floor of a dirty basement, covered in blood and dirt. And by the smell of out, pond scum. It was hard to warp my head around the fact that I was finally going to die. I mean, I've been near death twice and not once have I actually stayed dead. What was with that? First, I slit my wrists. Then, I drown. Both totally hopeless situations but yet, I lived. 

    Sometimes fate had a way of kicking our asses. 

    I would of rather had drowned and stayed at the bottom of that nasty lake for the rest of humanity instead of being brought back to life just to die at the hands of my boyfriend. I was now seeing the fatal error of my ways. I always bitched about how women in abusive relationships should just leave but now I knew what it felt like. You'd be scared one minute, cowering in fear from a raised fist, then the next you'd be so utterly in love it was almost painful. 

    I now knew why those women stayed. Out of love. Completely miss placed and stupid love. It was like the more he beat you, the more you felt sorry for him when really, you need to feel sorry for yourself. No matter how many times he told you he loved you, it was a lie. You don't hurt the people you love intentionally. It doesn't work like that. 

    Lying on that cold, moldy floor I realized I was really going to die. It was ironic in a way; I'd attempted suicide, drowned. I was in a horrible car wreck and yet, I was going to be beaten to death by the supposed love of my life. What was with my luck? I just couldn't catch a break. 

   A new fire spread through my veins, instilling a will to fight in my core. I would no longer be the girl that sat idly by as she was pushed around, punched. No, I'd make something of my death. I'd make him work hard in killing me, make him see he couldn't and wouldn't break me. It was my turn to fight. If I was going to die, I'd die on my own time. Damien wouldn't know what he had coming to him when he walked down here.

   Grabbing onto the wall for support I pulled myself up, stepping carefully away from it. Bad idea. I crashed to the floor with a hard thud, my head bouncing off the concrete. Ow. Pain radiated through my skull and added onto the agony I was already suffering. I groaned, pulled myself together and crawled back onto my knees. It took a shit ton of effort just to get back up, but I was determined to stay standing once I did. If Damien walked in and I was writhing in pain on the floor, he'd think he'd won already. That was not going to happen.

   I swayed on my feet. My vision was swimming, the room blurred into nothing but dark grey colors with bursts of black and white in certain places. I blinked but froze when footsteps sounded overhead, coming to a stop directly over my head. The world slowed down for a few minutes as I listened to whoever it was pace back and forth. Finally, a door slammed and then steps sounded on the stairs, coming closer to me.