Trapped

Chapter 2

Alcohol. Such a common subject dealt with in this household. Some people abuse the use of it, while others drink it on occasions. Out of my luck, I picked the short straw, which what happened to be the overuse of alcohol. The abuse of alcohol tends to lead to violence, and awful choices. Most people sometimes know what their doing, while others do not. When you have a full group of straight drunk men, things get out of hand. Brent, when he gets his hands on alcohol, he is ten times worse drunk than sober. He lashes out with more anger, and treats me with no care. The hits, slaps, and sex is so much more painful. He throws parties with his friends, and things get worse with more company. They all laugh and soak at what Brent makes me do in front of them. I'm forced to strip and dance for them. It's incredibly humiliating, but I rather do that than have more bruises and cuts on my body. Everyday I wish and I pray that some how someway I would die. For me, my death wish will never be granted.

I hope and pray that tonight will not be one of those nights, if I were to protest against people coming over, I would surely receive hell.

-

"Avery I'm going to the store to get some food and drinks, you make sure this place is clean when I get back!" Brent shouted before he slammed the door closed.

I could hear domination and anger in his voice, which meant if I don't do what he says I'll have the worse night of my life. I thought to myself, what were to happen if I got out of this shit hole and ran away. This thought had crossed my mind many times, but I have never gotten a good enough plan. My first dilemma is I have no car, and I can't get very far on my feet. Brent doesn't give me access to any money so I can't ride a train or bus. I quickly push off the thought of escaping knowing it will never happen. I'll be stuck here in this living hell, while everyone on the outside doesn't know what's occurring in here.

I brought myself from the couch and began to clean the living room. Multiple beer bottles and trash from Brent's get together two nights ago still remain. I seem to never be able to keep this living room clean, I straighten up everyday but somehow it never happens. I wish Brent would at least have the curiosity in buying a candle or at least some air fresheners. It smells like beer and used up old cigarettes. I don't smoke, but Brent does. He smokes straight from the living room and stinks up the whole apartment. I've told him repeatedly that smoking isn't allowed in our apartment, but he dismisses me like a child.

After I was done in the living room I progressed into the kitchen. I scanned the counters and sink, it looked nicer than the living room did. I spend more time in here than any other room. I enjoy cleaning dishes rather than cleaning the living that I can barely breathe in. Something caught my eye, it was a small picture sitting above the sink, I don't recall it being there earlier.

I walked toward it and picked it up. It was a picture of Brent and I. It was taken on our first date. If it was possible to go back in time I would tell myself to get the hell away from him, but I was young and naive. I thought Brent was a good man, I believed he loved me. Not knowing what he would do to me in the future. The first time I met him at the party we slept together. He didn't seem like an aggressive, abusive man, but he was and still is. I felt tears gather in my eyes, realizing I was about to cry. I fell to my knees and began to sob. The tears flooded from my eyes and soaked my jeans. I asked myself, how the hell did I end up like this?

I forced myself to stop crying and rose to my feet. I ripped the picture into pieces while I threw it in the trash can. I approached the sink and began to do the dishes.

I heard a car engine roar and I realized Brent was home. I mentally prepared myself for what he was going to say or do to me when he gets inside.

I stared at the door waiting for it to open. I saw the door knob wiggle and in comes Brent.