Pessimist

9 - Permanent

"Don't raise your voice at me."

"I'm sorry," I whispered, looking down ashamed. He was right, I knew better than to talk back.

"Why did you go out without telling me? You wanna leave me so bad? You ungrateful bitch."

"No, no! That's not true," I begged. "I was just hanging out with my friends. I love you, I want to marry you." I took a step forward, cupping his face softly. "Do you still wanna marry me?"

I prayed the answer was no. I prayed and prayed and prayed but the grin I received had already made me lose hope. I was never getting out of here. He relaxed considerably, pulling me closer in his embrace with a hand palming the back of my head as he pushed my face into his chest.

"Of course I wanna marry you, babe. You're mine. Always. No one will ever have you," His hold tightened, my eyes closing as tears streamed down my face. I felt like a prisoner. I felt alone and hopeless.

You're mine, he had said. Like he owned me. Like he could do anything he wanted.

More tears welled up in my eyes as the thought now occurred to me. I would never escape this house. Never escape him. I was trapped.

I shook my head relentlessly, wanting to erase that memory all together. My chest tightened and I worked on my breathing, needing to calm down before Alex returned. I hadn't gotten a text from him since the night of the party, which had me both relieved yet paranoid.

My phone rang with a voicemail and I picked it up, clicking open the app in order to hear what someone left.

"Hello? Sophia? I might be coming back a bit late today. I have some things I need to catch up on along with a quick grocery store trip so don't get out of bed or I swear to god I'll kick your sorry ass down the stairs. Gotta go, bye!"

I sighed, slouching as I wondered what I could do to kill the time. There wasn't much you could do during bed rest besides watch videos or read, however I couldn't do the latter since I still hadn't gone down to the library to check out some books yet.

Pulling up my laptop, I studied my notes for half an hour before getting bored once again. Scrolling through my email, I paused over an unfamiliar one that was sent to me yesterday. Clicking it open, I sucked in a shaky breath as my eyes were glued to the image attached.

It was me, on the floor half naked bruised up and bloody. My skin turned cold, it was from a while ago, I noticed. I recognized the flooring as the same one from the house I had lived in for three years. And I only ever wore that outfit once until it was ripped off of me to shreds.

What the fuck?

Above was a note in the subject line, short and simple.

"What would you do when he's next?" I laughed, fear brewing up in my system. He really is fucking insane.

A knock sounded at my door and I continued my gaze at the screen, still in disbelief.

"Alex, it's open!" I shouted, not wanting to get up.

The knock continued making me let out a huff, gripping my torso as I stood up. I decided to take a break from oxycodone. As much as I needed it, Dean's annoying pretty voice kept filtering in my head and I didn't want to get myself addicted.

"Alex, did you go get pizza again because I told you I didn't need you wasting money on me. Why the fuck-" I swung the door open, eyes widening once I saw who was behind the door.

"Dean," My voice squeaked.

"Sophia," He nodded, tilting his head as his eyes searched my body before landing back onto mine, staring intently. In his hands were notes, handwritten I could tell as he continued to analyse me.