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“I mean it. Do it and stay. Or leave anyway.” I looked up and saw she was watching. “Or stay.” She slowly shook her head at me, turned away, and then looked back at me again. “You’re serious?” “Sure. Yes! I meant yes.” I couldn’t read her. She sure as hell didn’t smile but she didn’t scowl either. “Get out, I’m busy,” she finally said. I closed the door behind me and paced in front of it. I raised my fist to punch the wall but I didn’t. I paced some more and silently threatened the innocent wall again. I know I can be a prick – okay, I am a prick – but why did I have to be a prick to her? Of all the people in the world, why did I have to be a prick to her? I deserved all those little punishments she’d handed out. That’s probably the only way she could justify staying with a prick like me. I was going to call into work, but she exited the bedroom, walked past me like I wasn’t there, and left. She didn’t bring her bags with her, though. I hoped that was a good sign and went to work. I choked as he finally pulled out. As soon as he let me go, I sprinted to the bathroom to clean out my mouth. As I got dressed in my room, I heard Danielle come in downstairs. Entering the room, she knew something was wrong. Did he hurt you? My silence was all the answer she needed. That night he came to my room again. She was asleep in the bed beside mine, unaware until she heard my soft crying after he left. She climbed into bed with me and held me as I shook. This became our ritual until we reached 18. By then she had gotten a job and saved up enough money to get a small apartment. We finally moved out and got away from him. But I still cried every night, shaking, sometimes waking up screaming. And always she was there, holding me and comforting me. Tonight Danny was working. I fell asleep waiting for her to get home, waking up crying in a cold sweat. I lay there crying quietly, wishing Danny was there to help, until I heard the front door close softly. I closed my eyes as she.
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