Wanderer [OC Story]

Part One: Eye Opener

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Warnings: abusive romantic relationship, a homophobic word

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I was staring at the shower tile floor silently as hot water flowed down my body. The tears that had welled up in my eyes and slid down my cheeks were lost in the cascade of water raining down on my head. There was a knot in my throat as I tried to keep the hiccups and whimpers in. I didn't want him to hear that I was crying.

I lifted a hand to my neck and flinched as I touched the sensitive growing bruised around it. I could still feel his hands around my neck. It was an awful feeling. More tears fell as I gritted my teeth to keep in the noises I wanted to release so badly.

Not here.

I lifted my hand further up to run it through my short, tomboyish hair, ing how I got it to that length. Yesterday, my boyfriend told me that I should get a haircut because I was starting to get split ends. Of course, I was going to get one after hearing his request. I wanted to please him. That's all I wanted honestly.

This morning I went to get my haircut. I wanted it to be a surprise so I told my boyfriend that I was going grocery shopping. It wasn’t a complete lie, because I really was going to go grocery shopping after getting my hair cut.

He seemed pleased to hear that since we were running low on food. Like usual, he demanded me to keep my phone on me so he could message me whenever he was worried about me. Being the perfect and obedient girlfriend that I was, I accepted his demand without hesitation.

At the parlour salon, I was waiting for my name to be called as I thought about what haircut my boyfriend would be pleased with. To be honest, I didn't know what to get. The last time I got a haircut, I had them cut it down to my shoulders. I thought I looked amazing, but my boyfriend wasn't pleased with it so I was punished with a harsh beating.

That haircut was out of the question. I knew it would displease him if I got it again. I thought for a while before his favourite actress popped into my head. She recently got a tomboyish haircut and I knew he really liked her hair. I decided to replicate her hairstyle because I believed he would be extremely pleased with it!

After the hairdresser was done, I ired my hair proudly, loving the way my head didn't feel heavy like it did when I had long hair. He would definitely not be upset about it. From there, I went to the grocery store as promised and bought us groceries. Of course, I replied to all of his worried texts about me being out for a long time. I reassured him that I was coming home, but felt nervous when he didn't reply.

I really hoped he wasn't angry at me. To feel better, I convinced myself that he was asleep or in the shower. Even if he was displeased with me, I was sure he was going to feel better when he saw my hair.

Little did I know, he was going to give me a beating when I got home. As soon as I entered our apartment, he was on me and yelled as loud as he could. He called me a whore for sleeping with other men while I was out, because I was gone for too long and that I took my time to reply to his messages.

That was okay though. I thought he just needed to express his worry and stress towards me. Wanting to make him feel better, I tried to reassure him that I wasn't cheating on him while I was gone, but my efforts failed. He didn't believe me and punched me in the gut a few times, causing our groceries to fall to the floor from my hands.

At that moment, I realized that he would feel a lot better if he saw my new haircut that was hidden underneath my hoodie’s hood. I told him that I had a surprise for him. I tried to convince myself that his facial expression was some sort of curiosity, happiness, but I was wrong when he reacted to my surprise negatively.

As soon as I took the hood off of my head and began to explain how I thought of the haircut, he punched me in the face with a force hard enough to knock me down onto the floor and cracked open a small cut in my lower lip. As a tiny amount of blood flowed down my chin from the wound, my heart dropped when he told me that I looked like a dyke and accused me of having sex with women instead.

I did my best to reassure him that that wasn't true, but he didn't believe me and gave me some hard kicks to my side. It hurt, but I tried to hide my pain. I knew he would beat himself up inside if he knew.

He left me alone for a bit to pick up myself and our groceries and put them away in the kitchen. The moment I finished putting them away, he came back and hugged me from behind. My heart melted when he told me that he was sorry for hurting me and blowing up. I was so happy when he told me that he loved me.

I forgave him.

However, later he got drunk and suddenly started to beat me again. I was cleaning the kitchen floor like he asked me to. I didn't understand why he was relieving his stress on me again until he brought up my hair. I tried to tell him that I would just wear a wig until my hair was longer, but that didn't calm him down. I only made it worse.

The next thing that happened opened my eyes. He began to choke me as he screamed at me about him only wanting the tips of my hair to be cut off. While I was trying to pull his hands off my neck, I realized that my life here with him wasn't what I thought it was.

This was bad.

I could feel unconsciousness creep up on me. I needed to get out of there, but I couldn’t move. I was pinned to the floor by a two hundred pound body. With tears flowing down the sides of my face, I begged death to not come yet.

I let out a gasp when he let go of me and told me to go clean up before going to bed. After watching him leave the room, I rushed to the bathroom, stripped myself of my clothes, and stepped into the shower.

And, that's how I got here; beat up and crying in the shower.

I moved my hands down to feel where all of the tender bruises that were on my body. There were big ones forming on my side where he kicked me earlier, bruises on my thighs from yesterday, bruises on my arms from him grabbing me, and bruises on my face from where he punched me. Not to mention, I was getting a swollen eye.

With my fingers lightly tracing my face, I could feel a small cut above my swollen eye and the one on my bottom lip. They felt sickening.

Suddenly, I realized that I had been in the shower for too long. I quickly washed my hair and body before getting out. After drying my body with a small towel, I approaching the bathroom mirror and stared at my naked body. I looked awful. I was disgusted by the sight.

This wasn't right. I needed to tell someone, but who?

It didn't take me really long to think of someone as I quickly got ready. I dried my hair and put foundation all over the bruises on my face. I wrapped a towel around me before cracking the door open to see if my boyfriend was around.

Luckily he wasn't, but I did hear the TV on from the family room. He was probably watching his stupid favourite TV show on Netflix.

Stepping out onto the cool wooden flooring in the hallway, I closed the door behind me quietly and crept to our bedroom. Making sure to not step on any of the creaky spots in the floor, I moved fluently on a path I memorized so long ago.

The moment I reached our bedroom door, I let out a soft breath of relief before looking back to see if he was watching me.

Nope.

Slowly turning the doorknob, I opened the creaky door carefully, squeezed inside, and closed the door behind me. I moved towards our bed and began to pace back and forth. I thought of how I could escape from this nightmare. Gunning for the door right now would be a terrible idea, but the realization of escaping quietly popped into my head.

Sounded good to me.

Stopping my pacing, I walked towards the dresser and then the closet for clothes. Dropping the towel from my body to the floor, I put on pajama pants, a loose t-shirt, and fluffy socks. Grabbing a backpack out of the closet, tears began to well up in my eyes and run down my cheeks again as I shoved a few days worth of clothes and my phone charger into it.

I paused for a moment to sit on the bed and cry silently into my hands. I couldn’t believe this was happening. When did all of this start? I couldn't . Why was I so blind to see who he turned into? Love probably blinded me. Why did it take him trying to kill me for me to realize this relationship wasn’t what I thought it was? God, I’m such an idiot.

I jumped when I heard the sound of shoes move around outside of the room. With fear, I rubbed my face of my tears with a sniff and stood up, kicking the backpack out of sight from the door. Anxiety bombarded my heart as I watched the door and waited for it to open at any second.

Surprisingly, it didn’t open.

I took that as my signal to leave. Picking up the backpack, I cracked open the bedroom door and peeked out to see if my boyfriend was in sight. Thank god, he wasn’t.

Taking that as a sign to go, I opened the door enough to squeeze out with the backpack hanging from my hand. I walked across the hallway silently before stopping when I reached the kitchen’s archway.

Taking in a few deep breaths, I peeked into the kitchen to see a tall male standing in front of the microwave as he whistled and watched the timer countdown. There were three minutes and thirty seconds left. It was enough time to escape.

Getting down on all fours, I slid the backpack across the floor, past the kitchen’s archway, and crawled after it carefully. I didn't want to risk him seeing me in the reflection of the microwave’s door. As soon as I got past the kitchen, I stood back up and walked over to the spot near the front door where we kept our jackets and shoes.

I grabbed my favourite pair of tennis shoes and rushed to put them on. As I put on them on, I did my best to convince myself that I'd get out of here before the timer went off. I felt a spark of hope in my heart when I finished tying one of the shoes, but it was instantly taken away when I heard the microwave beep.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” I whispered, quickening my pace.

This was bad.

I tried to rush tying my other shoe and looked back to the kitchen to see if he saw me yet. Thank god, he wasn't there. I was honestly tempted to give up and hide. There were plenty of hiding spots in the family room.

However, that spark of hope came back when I heard a clanking noise come from the kitchen and my boyfriend cuss loudly. He probably dropped it on himself again. Makes sense since he was always drunk at the end of the day.

With that distraction, I finished tying my other shoe and stood up, pulling the backpack up with me. Grabbing my hoodie from the coat rack, I looked back when I heard another clanking noise and more cussing.

With my heart beating fast, I unlocked the front door and opened it quietly. Looking back one last time, I creeped out into the cold and closed the door behind me. I put on my hoodie before sliding my arms through the backpack’s straps.

From there, I ran. I ran as fast as I could away from him; away from that horrible place. When I thought I was far enough away, I changed my speed to walking and ventured to a destination I knew was safe.

My brother’s apartment

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◇ Part One: Eye Opener

◇ Part Two: Justice and Loss

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