"Lock yourself into the bathroom if you have to," LaRosa, the counsellor told us. "Most abusers cool down after a while and come to their senses. Those who do not are extremely dangerous and you should really consider leaving them as soon as possible. They could cause severe bodily harm to you and your children or even kill you."

I hoped it would not come to this but would never get a chance to find out. When I would have my next confrontation with Brent, things really hit the fan and locking myself away was the last thing on my mind.

I was still struggling in school but my grades were slowly improving. I did a few extra projects and homework assignments and really studied my ass off. Brent was supportive whenever I had a question but left me alone otherwise and I cherished some alone time in the bedroom at night. A few times, I got away with long relaxing bubble baths, listening to soft South American flute music. It relaxed me and I felt like a new woman after that.

Brent demanded sex frequently but was satisfied with a quickie most of the evenings, as a matter of fact, he seemed relieved when I didn't want to be pleased. He had turned into quite a selfish lover who didn't care for foreplay or after cuddle if it didn't suit his own mood. The whole affair was usually finished within five minutes and he didn't force himself on me, accepting even a few times that I was not feeling well.

I had early signs of pregnancy but was too inexperienced to even notice. The slight morning sickness was attributed to stress and I thought I may have caught a bladder infection because I had to pee all the time. My breasts were tender but that was not unusual before I had my period. Though I kept a calendar to track my cycle, I was too busy to even check and didn't realize that I was already two weeks over my due date.

It was the last week in April, nine days before I snapped and killed him when I had a breakthrough in the therapy session.

I finally dared to speak up. "Hi, my name is Rena and I am currently in an abusive relationship."

I spoke for almost the entire hour and told the group my story - how I met Brent, the first time he struck me, the beating in the kitchen and the bathroom. Tears trickled down my cheeks when I talked about the miscarriage and the fear I have felt ever since. There were many shocked faces and a few shedded tears by the other women which made me realize they really cared. Somehow, I felt empowered.

After the session, I tried to call Kade but realized I had forgotten the prepaid phone at home. At first, I pondered whether to call him on the other one but I didn't want to tempt fate and left it alone. I could always text him later and I didn't know that this would have been my last opportunity to talk to him until the day of the murder.

When I got to school, my great day continued. Caroline finally came around and chatted with me briefly and I promised her we would soon grab a cup of coffee after school. I got an A on my calculus test and the Spanish pop quiz was a breeze. I read out aloud my poem I had written the night before, earning me lots of compliments. I was on top of the world, almost feeling invincible, convinced that my life was slowly turning for the better.

Today, I know it was the calm before the storm – the last moments where I was just filled with cheer happiness so perfect it will now make me cringe. When I plunged, faster and deeper than ever before, I really felt the impact. It knocked the wind out of me and all I could do was wonder how I could have ever been so stupid, believing that things wouldn't be bad again.

I got home around six, my steps light and I was looking forward to spending the night curled up in the bed with a good book but my torment began as soon as I stepped into the kitchen. Over the next days, Brent would show his true colors and if I thought I had it bad before, I hadn't seen nothing yet.

He sat there, a bottle of whiskey on his left and the prepaid phone on the right – and in the middle, there was a revolver. I froze as his fingers ran down the shaft. There was no doubt that if I turned around and ran, a bullet would be sure to follow.

"Brent, what are you doing?" I asked in a trembling voice.

He glared at me. There was nothing in his eyes, not even coldness.

"Sit down."

His words made the hair on my neck rise. I reluctantly lowered myself into the chair across from him.

"We will be playing a fun game," he announced. "I will ask you a couple of questions and will let destiny decide if you refuse to answer or I suspect you are lying."

I swallowed hard, definitely not liking the sound of this. He slowly opened the chamber of the gun and took five of the six bullets out, lining them up in front of him in a straight line. He snapped the revolver close and spun the cylinder around.

"I am sure you know how to play Russian roulette." He sounded as deadly as his threat. "So, let's begin."

Sweat began to pearl on my forehead and the pee in my bladder started to be real uncomfortable. I was sick to my stomach as he rose from his chair and approached me, his eyes burning holes into my forehead.

"Why do you have this phone?"

I panicked, sure he would kill me if I told him the truth. "It's not mine," I claimed, my mind and tongue no longer under my control. "I found it."

"Oh yeah." He was now next to my chair, towering over me. "Too bad I don't believe you."

He exposed his teeth in a wide grin when he pressed the barrel against my temple. It felt cold and dangerous and final - I was so scared that my pee soaked my pants.

"Who have you been calling?"

"Brent, please." Tears were streaming down my face but otherwise, my body was rigid like a stick. I can't even remember breathing. My heart was pounding really fast and my mouth was dry, not even a bit of saliva to swallow.

"I love you," I whispered in my last attempt at survival. "I swear I never cheated on you."

He bent forward and his lips grazed my neck. "I don't fucking believe you."

He straightened before pulling the trigger and I screamed in deadly fear, the sound ringing in my ears. I was expecting the gun to discharge but the chamber was empty, yet the clicking of the hammer was so frightening that my stomach was almost turning.

"Oops, my mistake," he said sarcastically. "I guess you didn't cheat." He tilted my head backwards so I would look him in the eyes. "Who did you call on this phone? Was it Fallon?"

I knew I would break eventually and nodded.

He clicked this tongue in disapproval, his eyes darker than I had ever seen them before.

"You were a very, very bad girl. And now it is time for you to be punished." 


Sorry for the cliffhanger, I thought I keep you in suspense just a little while longer. Let me know if you found the tension building - that's what I was trying to do but not sure if I succeeded.

Thanks for reading and I would love to hear from you in your comments and please don't forget to vote with the little star in the corner if this chapter deserved it.

Living With the Choices We Make (Domestic Violence / Abuse)  ✔️Where stories live. Discover now