From The Dining Table [H.S]

Last Night In Jamaica

A/N: hello!!!! A pre-reading message for you all, I started to write this in summer 2020 as nothing serious and did not expect to genuinely fall in love with the story (it's now may 2021 and I have 7 chapters until finished!!!!).

From this, you will see my writing style and chapter lengths fluctuate a lot, however as I find myself as a writer you too will find stability in the story.

PLEASE stick with it through the cringe beginning, the end result is something I am super proud of and I would love for you all to experience the later chapters as they are levels above the first ones.

I love reading your comments so feel free to do so wherever you want - or don't, it's fine - and if you like a chapter please vote for it, it does a lot more than you may think :).

Thankyou, -S xx

TW: story contains mature scenes including rape, ED, assault and anxiety. Please read at your own risk

"Babe! You ready yet?" He shouts, as his fist lands heavily three times on the door, the thud thud thud sending shivers down my spine.

I forget how strong he is sometimes - I become so blinded by fear and rage that I forget everything. Though he's never tried to hurt me, a small part of me always fears he will. He has a history of hitting girls in the past. Yay, lucky me. I dated him to try and change him, I hoped I could make him see that life isn't all about sex, drugs and alcohol - it's not going too well. I take a big gulp: swallowing down any nerves that had shot up into my voice as I steadied my breathing.

"Don't call me that, jackass!" I shouted back. "Don't argue with me all day and then start calling me babe or baby. Call me by my name from now on."

My confidence grows as I remembered the bathroom door was locked. Knowing he can't get to me settles my nerves. He could knock the door down - he's strong enough - but he's too tight for that. He would never pay the bill for the damage. I hear him mumbling to himself what I can only assume are mean things about me, as his feet shuffle away from the door.

I stand, looking at myself in the mirror as I steady my balance. I look awful. My brown curly hair sits neatly just below my shoulders, the light reflecting the warm ginger undertones the sun has been giving it all week. The blue in my eyes looks dull today - I blame that on all the crying. Slowly raising my finger, I wiped and patted the delicate skin under my eyes, removing any mascara that may have ran from Dan's heavy hits at the door. Freckles of all different shapes and sizes invaded my sun kissed skin, giving me the appearance of being tan. I've never tanned much, I've always been super pale. Freckles are the only thing the sun gives me. The redness on my nose itched as my burn started to mark its territory. I tried covering it with makeup, but I think that's irritated it.

Scanning the room for my phone, I caught a glimpse of my wash bag sat on the shelf, neatly packed and ready to go.

I can't wait to leave tomorrow.

I bought Dan and I this surprise holiday to Jamaica after one of our fights. He'd always dreamed of coming here, ever since we started dating a few years ago. However, I always seemed to be able to talk him out of it, persuade him into staying at home by performing all sorts of scandalous acts upon him. I never wanted to do them of course, but I dreaded the idea of going away together even more. Dan also isn't much of a listener, so my reasoning often means nothing to him unless my mouth is round his cock.

The stubbornness probably comes from his mother. I've met his parents on a few occasions, however never for longer than a few hours. His mother - Angela - is a bitch. Always finding ways to curve around doing the right thing, always managing to come out on top with the 'right opinion'. Dan's dad on the other hand - Nathan - is a wonderful man. So kind and caring towards me. Always greets me with a tight hug and a peck on the cheek, before inviting me in for some freshly brewed tea. Whenever Angela goes off on one of her rants, Nathan just responds with 'yes dear', or 'of course you're right - always are', while laughing to himself at the lies he just told. I pretend not to notice, but he always catches me smirking.