Bleeding Love

c h a p t e r 1

"How about after I'm finished eating, we can go into the back room and work some magic?" His voice slurs, sending shivers down my spine.

I give the man a sad smile, he must only be 35 years old and went through a difficult divorce. How on earth would I know that? No I'm not a mind reader; just a regular 20 year old waitress listening to a poor man's romance story and how it ended in a disaster.

"Your bill is $39.05 and here's one on the house." I give him a check and another mug of Miller Lite.

He gives me a puzzled expression, as if I didn't hear his request. With a wave goodbye, I lead myself into the kitchen and untie my apron. Tonight I close with my friend Courtney, who is 24 years old and a mother of two. She's an amazing woman, brave and strong who deserves to be loved; unlike me who is nothing but a disappointment.

"Hey sweetheart, cheer up! We have the next two days off! Maybe you can come and hang out with the kids tomorrow." Courtney throws her dirty blonde hair into a tousled ponytail and hangs her apron up on the rack.

My hands tremble when I do the same as her, hoping she doesn't notice and I reply softly, "That would be nice, I'll try."

Courtney stares at me, studying my face for answers. My mind screams for help, to save me from the hell that is waiting at home. But the other side of my brain is telling me, "You did this yourself."

"Aubrey, is everything okay with Warren?" She eyes me suspiciously, I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

"Of course. I'm just tired and not feeling very well." I grin, wishing it was only true.

My phone begins to ring, fear creeps into my mind as I click "Answer".

"Where the hell are you?" Warren's voice hisses, I gulp nervously.

I wave Courtney good bye and exit the restaurant. The winter air blows over my body, making me tighten my coat around me to keep me warm. It wasn't the cool breeze that had suddenly placed chills running down my arms.

"Just leaving work now. I'm sorry that I'm running late." I apologize, please be sober.

"You ungrateful piece of shit. You should be home with me, cooking my dinner and living up to my standards." He growls, I quicken my pace towards the apartment.

Before I know it, I make it to the apartment out of breath. I run up the stairs and prepare myself for a brutal beating. Panic rises in my chest, please end this nightmare.

I hang up the phone and enter, my eyes stare at the dead, boring, white living room. He's here, I feel his presence right behind me, his eyes burning into my back.

"There you are pet, must be having fun while you were out." Warren walks in circles around me; as if I'm his prey and he's the predator, waiting to pounce on me.

"I was working, I swear. I apologize for being selfish and not spending enough time with you. Please forgive me." I plead, wishing he will be reasonable and walk away.

Warren shakes his head, muttering curse words and before I could even register it, a slap to my face was given. My frail body flies to the hardwood floor, I cry out in agonizing pain.

However, he wasn't finished with me. His foot kicks my rib cage, I could have sworn I heard my ribs crack. A sob escapes my mouth, I hold onto the wall and try to get myself up.

"Get back down you stupid bitch!" He shouts, anger clearly progressing.

Another blow to my gut sends me into the wall and I slide down, coughing up blood. Warren stops, walking towards me and puts his rough, cold hands on my cheek.

"Sorry pet, I hope this taught you well. Clean up this mess now will you?" He smiles, kissing my cheek and leaves me on the floor.

Once the bedroom door closes, tears spill everywhere. I tried to move, but only ended up biting on my hand to keep my screams to myself.

I did this, I deserve this. He was my loving boyfriend until I threatened to leave him. Slowly but carefully I crawl across the floor, reaching for paper towels and begin to clean up the dark, red liquid on the floor.

My name is Aubrey Summers. I am 20 years old, a waitress at "The Grill", and in an abusive relationship with Warren Kerrnicks. Two years have gone by like this, me accepting my punishment and dealing with the aftermath. This is love, isn't it?