grayson
*graphic*
I find a spot in the corner of his guest room closet, I spend time by going on my phone but I can't seem to do the most as my hand shook making it harder to even just hold the phone. I accidentally drop it, I decide to just leave it there it's no use.
I flinch at the familiar open and slam of the entrance door. Every single time I mentally curse to myself for actually hiding instead of running. But running away would be no use, I have no where else to stay. If I told a police officer he could easily make him look like the good guy, besides the bruises scattered throughout my body.
The louder the sound of things being thrown into the floor makes my breathing fasten. He's not giving up until he finds me and that means looking through every crack and crevice of this house.
I barely even let out a single breath, just in case that's what he heard to finally find me as I heard the door open to the guest bedroom. I quietly pick out a clothes hanger for self defense.
I let out a squeak unintentionally as my phone starts to buzz, 'unknown number', yeah that's right because no one ever calls me anyways.
Here we go, the sliding of the doors ring loudly against my ears as I'm pulled out of my now attempted hiding spot, I only have so many of those left.
I wince at the hand to face contact, I fell to the floor wincing at the burning sensation on my left cheek.
"Don't think you can hide from me, you know I always find my ways." The deep dark voice that Jack holds is already bad enough, you'd think he talks to me like that just to scare me.
He uses this moment to kick at my fragile sides that he has already fractured enough. I don't know why I still call this man my boyfriend.
