T O X I C | ORIGINAL

07

Elliot was abused as a child. His dad used to beat him mercilessly while his mom was working multiple jobs to feed Elliot and his dad.

I think his dark past was the main reason why I instantly intrigued by him on our fourth date. We have an exact same background story; my dad was an abuser too. He used to beat my mom, Claire and me in daily basis. He was an alcoholic and a massive drug user too.

But the difference between me and Elliot was he kept the scars inside his heart unhealed and untouched, while I was trying my best to heal my old wounds. I went to several therapies, I met dozens of therapist, and I applied into several jobs to distract me from my trauma.

But for Elliot, he took the wrong path. He started to get drunk at the age of 15 and hadn't stopped since that. He convinced himself that nothing would ever able to help him with his trauma except for the alcohol.

"I've told you to be fucking patient, goddamn it!" He slammed his fist onto the table, making me flinch a little. He was drunk—again. Ryan, his best friend took him for a boys night out and things didn't work out really well as usual.

"I'm tired of this crap, Elliot," I said. "You need to cut off your addiction or I'll leave," I threatened him, even though we both knew; that shit would never happen.

"No you won't," He shook his head. "You won't leave me,"

"Why would I not? I've had enough, Elliot," I stood up from the dining chair and headed to our room. I was planning on stay at Claire's for tonight, I was really tired for the shit that constantly happened.

I grabbed my traveling bag from under the bed and started to pack my clothes. "Where the fuck you're going?" He followed me. "Answer me!" He yelled.

"I'm leaving you!" I yelled back for the first time in our three years of being together. "Don't you see, Elliot? No one can stand being around you anymore!" I had lost my patience.

"Don't you dare talking to me like that," He hissed.

"Who do you think you are? I can talk just how the way I want it to," I rolled my eyes and continued packing my stuff. He stormed out the room and left me alone. But minutes later, he came back.

And he had a fucking knife from the kitchen in his hand.

"You're not leaving me, Chantel," His shaky hand pointed out the knife directly into my face. Fears rushed throughout my body and I froze where I stood.

"Elliot, baby, put the knife down, okay?" I held my hands out in front of me and slowly walked closer to him. "Baby, let's put the knife down, alright?" Tears started to stream down my face, knowing the fact my life could've ended tonight in his hand—the person I trusted and loved sincerely and deeply.

I tried to take away the knife from his hand but instead he slashed the knife across my skin and sliced it open. "I've fucking warned you, Chantel," He watched me drop into the ground, holding my bleeding arm.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I cried out. "Who are you? I don't even know you anymore," His face wasn't showing any expression. He dropped the knife to the ground and left me alone.