((currently listening tooooo
bite my tongue - you me at six
if you can't hang - sleeping with sirens
teenage dirtbag - wheatus
black parade - my chemical romance
try hard - 5 seconds of summer
don't judge me for my varied playlist))
I'd been sat in this room for another hour after he left, alone. My stomach was growling; I hadn't eaten for days. He would give me water, but I was lucky to get that.
I needed to escape.
I looked around the room, and stood up again. My knee was hurting me so much.
He had locked all the windows and doors up here, so I couldn't just climb out and run.
I searched for a key in obvious places, but had no luck.
I could hear him coming up the stairs, so I walked as quickly as I could to my usual corner and stayed standing,
"I'm going out. Don't do anything," He said, then laughed, "Like you could do anything."
A few minutes later I heard the door slam and the car start outside. I stood up again, and tried to find something that could help me break the door.
All that was in here was a bed, broken phone, a mirror and dressing table.
I decided searching through the dressing table was my best option.
I tried opening the top draw.
Locked.
I tried opening the second draw.
Locked.
I tried opening the third draw, expecting it to be locked, but it opened.
It was empty. It probably had my clothes in it before.
I could feel myself welling up. I was surprised I could still cry, honestly. The amount of tears that have spilled from my eyes these past few months is ridiculous.
I tugged at the draw, then noticed it slipped at the sides.
I pulled it out completely. There was nothing at the back, and I sighed.
I threw the draw as far as I could, whimpering as my arm ached from bruises.
It smashed into the door, leaving a crack in it.
My face lit up. I could get out.
I grabbed the draw again and threw it harder to the door. More wood cracked, making a whole now. I used my hands to rip parts away until it was big enough for me to get out.
"Oh my God." I shouted, tears streaming down my face; and good tears for once.
I slipped through the whole, rubbing my hands against the back of my head.
3 months, I had been locked away because of that psycho, Tom, who I thought was my boyfriend.
After his Dad died, he got crazy. He started getting more and more angry about things, and he couldn't get time off work for the funeral; time off work meant no pay, no pay meant no rent money, no rent money meant being kicked out.
His Mom and sister died in a car accident not long after, and I could understand that he would be upset and angry for the first few weeks, maybe even months, but 2 years later he still took his fustrations out on me, like it was my fault, and I couldn't understand it.
He told me to move to Australia with him where some of his relatives lived; lies.
He wanted me away from my family. My family thought it would be best for him, to have support and start a fresh away from England. So that's what we did; but it didn't turn out good.
I ran down the stairs, almost stumbling over at the bottom. I continued to limp towards the front door, my hands fumbling with the handle. I couldn't open it; it was locked. I ran to the living room and paused for a minute to look at the windows. I grabbed the handle and pushed it, the window slowly opening. I smiled, and stood up on the window ledge, then climbed out the window. I probably looked like an idiot, but I didn't care.
I fell out the window, landing on the ground with a thud,
"I'm out.." I said to myself, rubbing my hands over my face.
I stood up and started to walk down the street.
I looked like utter shit; I was wearing an oversized grey jumper, denim shorts and converse, all of which were ripped or burned or somehow ruined. My hair hadn't been brushed for weeks and my makeup that I hadn't touched had probably all erased off my face, leaving dark circles under my eyes. I had bruises and marks all over my face, fresh and old.
Where was I meant to go?
The police station was the first thing that came to mind; but what would I say?
Hi, my boyfriend took me to another country and locked me away for a long time.
Well, I guess that's how it was meant to go.
I was still familiar with the town and knew where everything was, but things had changed. The streets seemed quieter and more stores had shut.
I could see the police station up ahead and quickened my pace, although I was limping because of the increasing pain in my knee. My jaw also ached because of the recent incident with the mobile phone.
I was so close, literally a few meters away.
I entered, looking around cautiously before actually approaching anyone.
A female woman was sat at a desk with an earpiece on, dressed in a sleek, black uniform and a badge on. Her hair was scraped back into a bun at the back of her head.
She looked up from the computer that was sat in front of her and smiled at me,
"Uh, um, hi.." I said awkwardly,
"Hello, can I help you?" She asked, still smiling,
"Uh, I, um-" I was so unsure of what to say,
"I need to report a, um, an assault.. I- I think.." I said, playing with the strings at the end of my jumper,
"Okay, I'll get someone for you. Just take a seat." She said, her hand signalling to some seats in the kind-of-office room.
I sat down. The seat was grey, plastic and uncomfortable.
I heard a door click, but kept my head down and continued fiddling with the hem of my jumper,
"If you just wait here, we won't be long." An officer said. I heard some shuffling, then someone sat down next to me.
I avoided looking up, my eyes locked on the floor.
It was a boy. I could tell.
I shuffled away from him, moving more to the left of my seat,
"Are you okay?" He said. I ignored him, and shrunk down in my chair,
"Um, are you alright? I can move if you want me too." I continued to ignore him and shuffled in my chair, not sure what to do,
"Okay." He said, standing up and moving away.
An officer came out, and I looked up.
The boy had purple died hair styled up in a high quiff, glasses and lots of tattoos and piercings. I quickly moved my glance from the boy to the officer,
"Would you like to come through?" He said, gesturing for me to go through a door.
-
An hour and a half (and a bucket of tears) later, I left the police station. They said they will go to find Tom and interview him then take it from there. They also said they want to send me to the hospital, but I told them I don't need it.
They took my details, but the only things I had to tell them was my name and my date of birth.
I had no phone number, no address and no money.
I stood outside the station. The sun was going down, and I sat on the patch of grass outside, looking up at the sky.
I was amazed that I was out of that house.
Just being able to breath fresh air and move around without him telling me I was doing something wrong felt amazing.
I could feel someone approaching behind me, and turned quickly. I then grabbed my neck, which was now leaving me in pain.
It was the boy again, the purple haired boy,
"Are you okay?" He asked, again,
"I know you think I'm a weirdo, I just want to see if your alright. We don't have to talk I just want to-"
"I'm fine." I mumbled, then looked down, surprised that I had spoken to some random boy,
"She speaks!" He said, acting like it was a miracle, "I'm glad your okay. I thought it was me smelling bad or somethi-"
"Okay." I said, interrupting him.
Over the past few months I had become so depressed and anti social that I had literally forgotten how to hold a conversation with another human being,
"I'm not sure why you were in there, but I'm not some crazy ass tattooed criminal, I was giving a statement. My friend was in a fight and-"
"Okay." I said again,
"Do you want me to go, or..?" He asked,
"I don't mind." I said. I still wasn't making eye contact with him,
"In that case, I'll stay." He said, and sat down next to me.
I wasn't sure if I was annoyed or happy about this,
"What's your name?" He asked. He was watching me, I wasn't looking at him,
"Um, my name is Avery." I said, picking at the grass,
"Luke." He said back,
"Luke Hemmings."