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.
Dan and I have been arguing this whole trip. It's never about a serious topic though. It's about petty things like: where we should eat for dinner, or if he should get room service or go down to the restaurant for breakfast. He's so lazy. Throughout our 2 1/2 year relationship he's only ever taken me out twice. Which is better than nothing - obviously - but he always takes me to these sleezy bars where he can smoke cigars and talk to his friends about 'business'. I don't even drink! I've never been much of a drinker, yet tonight I'm craving a liquid escape. I need to relax and let loose for at least one night of the holiday.
I gingerly unlock the door, and slowly push the handle down; the click of the door opening catches me off guard and I take a sharp breath in. Peering cautiously to see where Dan is, I step into the bedroom, before hastily walking over to the full length mirror leaning gently against the hotel room wall, and check my outfit. A yellow summer skirt with white flowers scattering it, paired with a basic white crop top. Such a boring outfit. I didn't feel like dressing up today. I never feel like dressing up any day. Back home, I'm always working, and can never find time for it.
Dan strolls into the room, looking startled as he catches me in the corner of the room flattening my skirt with my palms.
"You look amazing Prim." He compliments, snaking his hand around my waist and pulling me closer to him. His overpowering scent of cheap cologne clogged my nostrils, causing me to hold my breath. "I'm sorry about this week - honestly. I never meant to upset you. Let me take you out for a nice romantic dinner tonight. Just the two of us!" He pleads, tightening his hands around more my waist, and planting gentle kisses into the top of my head.
I turn to stare at him, not sure if he's taking the piss. He never apologises, but we've also never argued for a week straight. I keep my gaze hard on him, my facial expression blank; as if his apology meant nothing to me. My eyes flick between his face and his hand, which he's now flung out in front of me, waiting for me to hold it. His blonde shaggy hair covers his eyes, the blue in them beaming through any gap it can find. His lip quivers as it tries to hold the fake smile he's plastered across his face.
I take two steps forward, forcing his hand down as I get closer. Slowly, I lift my delicate hand and tuck his hair behind his ear, revealing the beautiful gems underneath. He does have very pretty eyes. His hair felt sweaty, which was weird because the air-con was on full in the whole apartment. Maybe he didn't shower - that's why he's got so much cologne on. I can't wait to sit with my sweaty, smelly boyfriend in this restaurant! I place my hands on both of his arms, using my thumbs to stroke up and down movements against his rough skin. My eyesight stays trained on the wooden flooring beneath my bare feet, and I trace the patterns with my eyes. I take another deep breath in - this one was shorter than the last, yet seemed a lot harder to take in.
"Let's just go to a bar. Have fun." I whisper softly, almost so soft I'm certain he didn't hear me. Trying to hold back the flood of tears begging to pour out of my eyes, I sniff in quickly, before I side step him and head towards the front door. Dan just watches me from the bedroom, stumbling while I rushed to put my shoes on. Tears are now pouring down my face, which is numb from all the sadness I've endured during this 'holiday'. At this point, I don't even know why I'm crying. Probably in shock from him apologising.
Is this growth? I think to myself while I rummage in my handbag for a tissue. Is he actually sorry? I wonder while I dab at my eyes to avoid ruining my makeup more than I already have. Does he actually mean it this time? My heart thuds out of my chest as I peel open my eyes to look at him now walking towards me. I straighten myself as he continues to get closer to me, his facial expressions blank. My mind is screaming at me saying "Run! Run now! As fast as you can! Don't just stand there you idiot, move it!"
But my heart is telling me to stay - to see what he does next. I stand, watching his every move like a hawk. Time feels like it's moving one hundred times slower as I anticipate what he will say.
But I was not ready for what was to come next.
He brushes past me, wobbling me slightly, takes a firm grasp of the doorknob, twists it and pulls the door open. The breeze carried by the fast movement glides across my face, drying any moisture left in my eyes. Dan looks at me, this time his expression easy to read. It's anger.
"Let's go. Now. I can't put up with your shit anymore." He says lowly, leaving no room for me to defend myself.
My shit? Excuse me Dan, the only shit in this room is that cheap Sports Direct cologne you're drenched in. How does this man have the nerve to call my crying and obvious fear of him 'my shit'.
"Now, Primrose. Did I stutter? I try and do something nice - take you out for a meal - and this is the one time you want to go drinking!" His anger builds as his voice grows louder and echoes my eardrums.
I walk hesitantly out the door, the room key resting in between my middle and ring finger, as if I'm waiting for an attack. The door slams behind me, causing me to jump from shock of the sudden loud slam. Before I can recover from that shock, Dan takes a firm grasp of my wrist, forcing my hand to open. The key falls through the gaps of my now trembling fingers and hits the floor.
I don't flinch. I don't breathe. I don't move a muscle.
Dan's hold loosens as he bends down to pick up the keys, yet he doesn't fully let go of me. He locks the door, shoving the keys into his shorts pocket, before forcing my hand to hold his.
My phone's still in the room. Damn it!
I didn't ask to get it though, it's not like I'll need it to document anything fun we do. Maybe to call 999 though. What's the Jamaican 999? Oh god I hope wherever we go has it on speed dial!
Our fingers reluctantly intertwine - his hand having full feeling of the sweat glazing mine, caused by a mix of my fight or flight being triggered, and being really hot.
I still haven't moved.
I'm stood stationery. My heart hitting against my chest at a speed I've never felt before. My mind is racing with feelings and thoughts and questions which I desperately try to shove into the back of my head.
Dan begins walking, his long strides dragging me behind him. I'm only 5'6" so keeping up with him is difficult. He leads us down the stairs, and through the lobby of the hotel. Oh, there's his fake smile again! We politely nod and smile at the hotel workers, as we quickly make our way to the front door. I don't think anyone could notice I was feeling distressed, I tried to hide it as best I could.
The automatic doors slide open, the humid air engulfing every inch of my exposed skin. Dan stops again. I can feel the eyes of all the people behind us burning into my skull because we stopped so suddenly. He looks at me. His blue eyes piercing my face like needles.
"You said you knew a bar?" He questions, almost shocked by the thought that I knew where a bar was.
"Uh- uhh- yeah. Yeah I do." I blurt out, caught off guard by how blunt his question was. "It's this beautiful seafront bar with live music, cocktails and f- woah!" My explanation was interrupted by the sharp tug Dan took to my arm. I don't know why he started walking, or why he's become so aggressive with me - he has no idea where we are going.
"Lead the way." He demands.
Well Dan, if you wanted me to lead the way you shouldn't have tugged me so hard. Cocky prick.
I gulp. My feet tremble against the pavement. I'm a nervous wreck. I can feel how clammy my hand is against his. He must be able to tell he's scaring me. Surely he doesn't think he's being compassionate right now. I slowly try to remove myself from his dominating grip, as if I was going to point a direction.
"It's that way." I tell him, yet I don't point in any direction, as Dan's grasp on my hand didn't loosen in the slightest. Instead, I give an awkward shoulder raise, which just strained my arm due to the pressure of Dan pinning it down by his side.
"Follow me." I mumble, leading us out the hotel driveway, and onto the beachfront.