Careful
reach out
I sat beside the fridge. My eyes wide open and my ears listening out for the front door. I could feel the stinging on the scratches down my back as the blood dried to my t-shirt. I could feel that huge lump that crept up from your stomach, waiting to burst and I'd lose myself in an uncontrollable fit of tears. I don't want to cry. It shows weakness. And I was afraid of the pain the salty tears would cause when it dripped over the graze on my left cheek bone.
The front door slammed and I almost choked. My name was called out by the familiar voice and I held my knees tighter. The kitchen door was forced open, pushing the broken pieces of plates and cups out of his path and big trainers trampled the shattered glass.
There was his voice again. Muffled. My brain was screaming and I was fighting with my eyes, but each blink stung more and more.
Jamie was on his knees in front of me, as close as he could get. His soft hand touched the bruised cheek and his dark eyes searched my face for answers. He wasn't angry and I slowly let it out. One by one, heavy tears slipped from my eyes. With my head against his chest, the tears became faster and breathing became tough and I managed one sentence.
"I thought it was going to help."
It didn't.
---
We weren't the most well off couples, but it wasn't until final notice bills flooded through the letter box did we realise just how littler we had. That's when Andy came to the rescue. A £5000 loan, without the pressure of a bank always being on our backs. I never thought to check if he was a legal money lender. When being so close to losing your home, you'd do anything to save it and I just wanted to do right by Jamie.
Andy moved the payment days to weeks in advance. He visited the days Jamie was out, as I was in charge of sorting this out. He didn't need to added worry of being in more debt so after every visit, I'd tell Jamie we were right on top of things. We weren't.
Five months on and Andy was visiting weekly. I would hand over everything and pray it was enough. Only once was it not enough.
"£60?" He asked, stood in our hallway, the hockey stick I've never seen him without resting in one hand. He tossed the notes back at me and they fell to the floor.
"That's all I have right now." I muttered, to scared to say anything too loud in case it was wrong. "I'll have more for next week."
"You better." He said, stick in hand, "We wouldn't want anything to happen to that lovely other half of yours." The stick smashed through the picture of Jamie and I that was propped on the small table. The table fell to pieces with the force.
I stared at the broken items and I wanted Jamie with me more then anything. He'd know what to say and Andy would leave us alone, but Jamie wasn't here and I had no idea how to fix this. Photo frame, table and our lives.
"I supposed I could come up with a way to shrink the payment." He said, casually and my ears perked up.
"Yes!" I said, loosening the knot in my stomach and I was prepared to smile. "Anything."
"I can send people to you. People who would pay you for... things." His voice sounded rougher then before, "They'd pay well." He stopped and I thought for a second, he had moved in on me and his body cast a shadow over mine. "Or we can find a use for the other one." He added, making a point to crush the photo further and I hated him for bringing Jamie into this.
"Okay," I said, not knowing any other way out.
"Good boy." He patted my cheek and I closed my eyes hoping I was actually dreaming. I wasn't. "How about we settle this weeks right now."
His hand had worked down to the button on my jeans and he slipped his rough fingers downwards. Saying no would be dangerous. This was the first time I let him into our room and into the bed where Jamie and I slept.
Andy let himself out that day, taking the £60 with him. I only ever saw him a couple of times after that, when he wanted something. I soon became the toy for bigger and stronger men who pushed me around and paid me to do things that made me sick to my stomach.
Then Jamie found out. Instead of screaming and shouting and walking away from the mess I'd made, he helped. He managed to find enough money for one week and Andy came round.
He'd lost interest in the money. Refusing to do something for him was a mistake. I'm not a good fighter and he'd knocked me against the entire kitchen. He left with the satisfaction he came for and the £400 I had for him.
And here I was. Curled up to Jamie who hushed and cooed and tried everything to calm me down. He kissed the top of my head and I've never held onto anyone tighter then I held onto him. No matter how disappointed he was with me, he knew I was going to need him. This was one big hole and we were going to get out together.
The front door slammed and I almost choked. My name was called out by the familiar voice and I held my knees tighter. The kitchen door was forced open, pushing the broken pieces of plates and cups out of his path and big trainers trampled the shattered glass.
There was his voice again. Muffled. My brain was screaming and I was fighting with my eyes, but each blink stung more and more.
Jamie was on his knees in front of me, as close as he could get. His soft hand touched the bruised cheek and his dark eyes searched my face for answers. He wasn't angry and I slowly let it out. One by one, heavy tears slipped from my eyes. With my head against his chest, the tears became faster and breathing became tough and I managed one sentence.
"I thought it was going to help."
It didn't.
---
We weren't the most well off couples, but it wasn't until final notice bills flooded through the letter box did we realise just how littler we had. That's when Andy came to the rescue. A £5000 loan, without the pressure of a bank always being on our backs. I never thought to check if he was a legal money lender. When being so close to losing your home, you'd do anything to save it and I just wanted to do right by Jamie.
Andy moved the payment days to weeks in advance. He visited the days Jamie was out, as I was in charge of sorting this out. He didn't need to added worry of being in more debt so after every visit, I'd tell Jamie we were right on top of things. We weren't.
Five months on and Andy was visiting weekly. I would hand over everything and pray it was enough. Only once was it not enough.
"£60?" He asked, stood in our hallway, the hockey stick I've never seen him without resting in one hand. He tossed the notes back at me and they fell to the floor.
"That's all I have right now." I muttered, to scared to say anything too loud in case it was wrong. "I'll have more for next week."
"You better." He said, stick in hand, "We wouldn't want anything to happen to that lovely other half of yours." The stick smashed through the picture of Jamie and I that was propped on the small table. The table fell to pieces with the force.
I stared at the broken items and I wanted Jamie with me more then anything. He'd know what to say and Andy would leave us alone, but Jamie wasn't here and I had no idea how to fix this. Photo frame, table and our lives.
"I supposed I could come up with a way to shrink the payment." He said, casually and my ears perked up.
"Yes!" I said, loosening the knot in my stomach and I was prepared to smile. "Anything."
"I can send people to you. People who would pay you for... things." His voice sounded rougher then before, "They'd pay well." He stopped and I thought for a second, he had moved in on me and his body cast a shadow over mine. "Or we can find a use for the other one." He added, making a point to crush the photo further and I hated him for bringing Jamie into this.
"Okay," I said, not knowing any other way out.
"Good boy." He patted my cheek and I closed my eyes hoping I was actually dreaming. I wasn't. "How about we settle this weeks right now."
His hand had worked down to the button on my jeans and he slipped his rough fingers downwards. Saying no would be dangerous. This was the first time I let him into our room and into the bed where Jamie and I slept.
Andy let himself out that day, taking the £60 with him. I only ever saw him a couple of times after that, when he wanted something. I soon became the toy for bigger and stronger men who pushed me around and paid me to do things that made me sick to my stomach.
Then Jamie found out. Instead of screaming and shouting and walking away from the mess I'd made, he helped. He managed to find enough money for one week and Andy came round.
He'd lost interest in the money. Refusing to do something for him was a mistake. I'm not a good fighter and he'd knocked me against the entire kitchen. He left with the satisfaction he came for and the £400 I had for him.
And here I was. Curled up to Jamie who hushed and cooed and tried everything to calm me down. He kissed the top of my head and I've never held onto anyone tighter then I held onto him. No matter how disappointed he was with me, he knew I was going to need him. This was one big hole and we were going to get out together.