Chapter 15

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I looked at myself in the mirror after my Monday classes. I actually looked like myself for once. Other than the scar in my eyebrow from where James had clawed me, my face looked like it belonged to someone happy, someone normal. 

Jack had asked me if I wanted to hang out tonight, but I decided to stay in. I was fairly run-down from the weekend and really needed to catch up on some sleep. Besides, I had three Italian songs to memorize by the end of the week.

I made myself a mug of tea and sat down on my bed to study my music. I ran through the notes in my head and worked out some of the words. This was definitely not the most fun part of going to university for music but, it’s a requirement. 

Suddenly, I heard my doorknob rattling. Someone had to be shaking it from the other side. I sat my tea on my side table and slowly walked towards the door. Then I heard someone banging their fist against it.

“LET ME IN!” shouted James. I could tell by his voice that he was drunk. My legs started shaking and my palms grew sweaty. “OPEN UP, SOPHIE!”

I took a deep breath as I fought back the tears threatening my eyes. I wished he would just disappear, that this side of him would disappear. But, I opened the door none the less.

Just as I’d expected James stood in front of me, a nearly empty bottle of beer in his left hand. He had sweat dripping down the sides of his face, soaking into the collar of his shirt. His eyes were bloodshot and fuming with anger. His chocolate brown hair was disheveled and his shoes both unlaced. He was a mess, an angry mess.

He drained the remainder of the contents in the bottle in one swig. He then took a few steps towards me and slammed the door behind him. I held my breath, waiting for what I knew was to come. 

“I saw you talking with Martin Clemonts after your Music Theory class.” he stated, his voice slurred but still stone cold. 

“He - he asked me about - about the homework,” I stated, taking involuntary breaths between words.

“You don’t talk to other guys!” he yelled. I then felt the piercing sensation of glass being smashed on top of my head. I immediately fell to the ground, broken bits of the bottle stuck in my hair that was now collecting blood. 

As I lay on the floor with tears escaping my eyes from the pain, he gave me a good kick in the ribs. Crack. I inhaled. Another kick. Crack. My eyes were blurred with tears and pain. The last kick came after a beat of him building up momentum. Crack.

“You would be nothing without me, you dumb bitch!” he yelled, picking me up by my hair. “You are a dirty, filthy lair. No one could love you except for me. I’m the only one who can put up with you.”

I couldn’t decide which hurt more, the relentless kicks to my limp body, or the harsh words that went straight to my heart. All I knew was that all of me was broken now.

The scent of the alcohol on his breath caused me to gag. He threw my head down with so much force I crashed it into the tiled floor of my dorm. I let out a small moan of pain.

I somehow found the strength to lift myself up and mutter, “I’ll leave you.”

“If you leave me, I will find you, and I will kill you.” he said through clenched teeth. He spit in my face before marching out of my room without even looking back.

In all my years of being abused I’ve felt scared, I’ve felt weak, I’ve even felt desperate. But, never once, have I felt helpless…until now.

**

I couldn’t help but cry as I applied the ice cold cloth to my swollen face. My cheek was red and puffy from where he’d punched me. It was so swollen, in fact, that I could hardly open my left eye. I had used make-shift stitch bandages on the cuts from the bottle. 

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