Treat You Better

Chapter Fifty-six: The Turning Point.

My eyes widened when he stepped over me before suddenly coming down to pin me to the floor by my arms. "Wait... wait, stop!"

"It's always better if you don't fight." He said in that same dark tone.

If anything, I fought harder, locking my knees together, never loosening my grip on my towel, biting at his hand when he tried to cover my screams. All that earned me more hits to the face and somehow never even seemed to wane his efforts because now he was undoing his belt buckle and holding both of my arms over my head while tears flowed freely down the sides of my face.

No. No. No! No!!

Hale paused a moment before picking something small off the carpet with a cocky laugh. "And you thought you got rid of everything." He said, looking at the country club pin between his fingers. "You can never truly get rid of me-"

The next thing I heard was a loud, bone chilling yowl as a blur of black and white flew right at Hale's face, scratching, biting, furious.

"AGHHHH!!!" Hale roared, fighting off Moo and giving me time to scramble away from him to grab the nearest robe and secure it around me firmly at high speed. My heart was racing.

"Get your bloody animal off me!" Hale yelled and ripped Moo off his face before flinging her at the wall with a loud thump.

My heart stopped.

His chest was heaving, his face was riddled with scratches, blood was gushing down his right cheek and he was stalking towards me to finish what he started. He was terrifying.

"You hurt my cat." I said and when he was close enough, I swung out my leg to kick him square in the groin. He went down with a groan of pain.

"YOU HURT MY CAT!" I repeated, grabbing my metal desk lamp, the plug disconnecting with a click as I swung it into his face like a club. Then again.

Blood splattered from his mouth, as he started moving backwards, "AGH! You bi-!"

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" I screamed, and this time, when I swung the lamp, it broke apart, so I grabbed my bedside clock, hurling it at his head as he made it to his feet. "GET OUT!"

I grabbed a can of hairspray and went for his eyes. "Never come back here again!" I yelled, backing him out my door and into the corridor as he spluttered and screamed about his burning eyes. "Never look at me, never touch me again, never come in contact with the people I love ever again, till you die, Hale I never want to see you or your mother's face again!"

When I jabbed the end of the can hard into his ribs, he lost his balance and tumbled down the flight of stairs, groaning and crying out. But I didn't stop flinging things at him till he got up and limped out the door; a portrait, a small decorative stool, the now empty can.

At the end of it all, I locked the door firmly and leaned against it. My vision was starting to blur, but I blinked it back and made my way back upstairs, trembling all over but trying to calm myself down.

"He's gone." I said, repeating the words to myself, I couldn't allow myself to break down, "he's gone, you're... you're fine...."

Unfortunately, my body didn't believe me, and I collapsed right on the carpet before I could pick my phone.

I felt paralyzed, absolutely helpless and alone. I could just die here and no one would know and the thought sent panic creeping up my throat, locking it so I couldn't breathe.

Everything in my vision was too sharp, too bright to focus or make any sense of, and I could hear nothing over the sound of my rapid heartbeat. Desperately, I got my fingers to move and grabbed my phone to call someone. Anyone.