Falling Into Your Gravity

Dylan put down her fork and knife gently, breathing through her nose gently.

"We can talk about this later." Dylan said, hushed. It wouldn't be appropriate for a four year old to hear. Kayla glanced back and forth, from Simone to Dylan with a childishly confused face spread across it. Simone stared at Dylan, got out of her seat and began to speak.

"Come with me." She said calmly. Dylan rose from her seat slowly, with a sigh.

Simone continued to to walk out of the house, sitting on the front porch steps. Dylan sat down beside her mother, folded hands in her lap.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Simone asked, wrinkling her forehead as her eyebrows lifted.

"Tell you what?" Dylan asked, glancing around nervously.

"Don't you dare play stupid with me." Simone said, pronouncing each syllable slowly. Simone pressed her hand against her daughter's, which was still folded in her lap. "You can tell me, Dyl." Simone added.

There was a long and silent pause, until Simone leaned in closer.

"He's only hit me a few times - It only started recently. It's nothing serious, I swear. Maybe if I acted the way he'd like me to he wouldn't hit me. It's my fault." Dylan said, half covering up for her boyfriend, David.

Simone rolled her eyes and shook her head. She was in disbelief her daughter would say anything like that.
"You're saying he hits you, because he doesn't like the way you act. Are you hearing yourself? This is ridiculous." Simone continued shaking her head. "You need to get out now, before this escalates and he becomes more violent." Simone said in almost a whisper, staring at the gravel. She could only imagine what goes on in that house of theirs.

Dylan looked up quickly. "No, I can't." She whimpered, a tear slowly drifting down her cheek. She wiped it away before her mother saw it.

"Yes, you will. I don't want my daughter having to deal with any sort of thing like this. Ever." Simone said patting Dylan's back softly.

"I'm already far enough in this, mother." Dylan retorted.

"You're twenty years old Dylan! You can't let a stupid man - if I can even call him that - ruin your young years of your life. This is the time when you should be having fun, but instead your kept up inside that house with an abusive boyfriend." Simone breathed in heavily, shakily. "Get out now, or I'll call your father and tell him to come get you." Simone said in an almost threatening voice.

"You say that, as if living with him is a bad thing." Dylan whispered under her breath.

Simone glanced up at Dylan. She had heard. "I'll call your father if this furthers into anything more. For now I need you to get out." Simone said, trying to make her stubborn daughter see the man was wronging her.

**

"I'm moving out." Dylan whispered from her trembling lips. She lowered her head, in case David was angered.

"Yeah? What a shame." David retorted tauntingly, stroking the small fuzz of beard he had on his lower chin. He didn't seem angry at all.

"You're not mad?" Dylan said, raising her head. She got a smack in the head. Her face flushed red, as she covered the side of her face with both hands. She whimpered lightly, wishing to not make a sound. She felt blood come from her nose.

"I'm downright pissed. You're not leaving, and if you do" David said, leaning his arm back. "I'll find you." David thrusted his arm at Dylan's side. She lunged to the ground harshly, and laid still until he walked away. She heard the door open and close. He was most probably having a cigarette - he did every other time he had hit her.

She got up slowly, holding her side. Blood was leaking into her mouth. She tried to ignore it, pretend it wasn't there. She wanted to pretend none of this ever happened.

Dylan walked as fast as she could to her room. She fumbled with the lock, and finally locked it. She rummaged in her closet for a suitcase. She found two of them. She put both onto her bed, and began throwing things into them. Clothes, valuables - anything she could find in her room that meant anything to her. She locked up both suitcases, and heard the door open and slam shut. There was a loud booming like noise coming from downstairs. It traveled up the wall. It was David's boots he had kicked off which hit the wall each time.

Dylan wiped blood off onto her sweatshirt. She looked like a bloody mess. She opened her bedroom door and hauled both the suitcases out. Her sides were aching like hell. She made her way to the staircase. David was at the bottom, with both hands on his hips.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" David asked, twitching his leg.

"I told you. I'm leaving." Dylan said, carefully taking one step down the stairs.

David made clapped his hands together. "Even though I beat the bitch, the still stands. That's one of the few things I like about you. You never die down." David said mockingly. He looked at the two suitcases she was holding. "You can't leave - you aren't even fully packed. What about these flowers? And this vase?" David asked, grabbing the vase off of the small table beside the staircase. "These are yours, too. Take them." David yelled, smashing the vase onto the stairs and on the floor.

Dylan looked at her feet; at least she still had her shoes on so the glass wouldn't be that big of a problem. She just had to get David out of her way. She looked around for something. Dylan tightened her grip on the suitcases she held. She was running off adrenaline, now. Her arms were also a little sore, but they were still maneuverable. She swung one of the luggage cases on David, and then the other.

The first landed directly on top of him, hitting his upper chest. Dylan moved down the stairs as fast as her legs would take her. She held both her sides whimpering. David laid on the ground, bleeding a little from his arm. The suitcase had scraped him a little.

Dylan grabbed both her bags and began running for her car.