Short Stories

The Night's Cool Air Embraced Her, Safety, At Last

The light flickered on, a low buzz emitting from the old bulb. His voice reverberated from the four walls. She screamed, but his bellows bounced back twice as loud. The front door swung open, and the cold night air pooled in, hitting her bare shoulders.
His fingers reached, extending, grabbing, for her backpack. She stepped to the side, calmly rejecting his attempt.

A smirk slid onto his face and she shuffled backwards, edging towards the open door. Realisation hit, there was no easy way out. His hands formed fists and his eyes glazed over. He flexed his hand, a palm coming into contact with her cheek. The skin on skin contact created friction, instant heat. She hissed, smiled, and held back tears that scratched at her pale blue eyes.

A red mark begin to shine upon her cheekbone, segmented finger prints, sprawled across her flesh. He did not pause, his venomous words dripped from his lips. She watched his lips move, she nodded. She nodded again. And again. His words meant nothing. It was the same speech. It was the same anger. It was the same man.

She nodded. She nodded again. And she turned her back quickly. Embracing the brisk night air. She slammed the house door behind her and let her feet carry her to where she felt safe. Her shoes smacked the pavement, barely audible, leaving no trace.

*February2017