All Mine

She was wrapped tightly in his arms, the couple laying in bed silently together. Neither of them said a word, his eyes closed while his cheek rested against her neck.

It was the last place she wanted to be.

How much damage those arms around her could do was constantly brought to her attention day in and day out. They could hug, they could hit. They could serve her breakfast on a good day, or they could serve her a week’s worth of bruises. It was a back and forth relationship between the two of them; passion and hate; fear and love.

Joanna’s soft green pupils searched the dark room, how they had every night since the vicious cycle of falling asleep with someone as terrible as her boyfriend started. She wanted a way out, to be free of the life she’d been roped into against her will. Four years ago she didn’t think falling in love would lead to this. She never dreamed that love could lead to the path she had tripped onto.

Preston never seemed terrible. He never even sounded like a bad idea. And as the years unraveled, Jo learned that was only a small part of the persona Preston had built up for himself. Always seeming like “the good kid,” or whatever the equivalent he had passed for at the time. He was friendly, caring to strangers and those who only knew part of him. Joanna was the unlucky person who had fallen in love with him, seeing every single piece of Preston that the world wasn’t meant to see.

No one deserved Preston. Preston deserved no one.

Least of all someone like Joanna. And yet those arms were wrapped around her every night, curling her small and frail body into his. Every night she would search around in the dark with her eyes, trying to think of anything she could do to get out. Anything. But those arms wouldn’t let her.

Her eyes fluttered closed, sleep pulsing through her veins as the noises of Preston’s soft snores melted into her ears. Giving up on the hopes of getting away from her life with Preston, as she did every night after thinking about how unrealistic it was, Joanna allowed herself to sleep. Her body ached, sore and tired from every time Preston’s arms had hurt her.

Eventually every fight to protest against how she was treated by someone who claimed to love her was abandoned, the love he said he had for her overruling everything she had been taught as a young woman: never let a man hit you. But he said she was his, all his. Joanna had become Preston’s world, his everything. She was the only thing he had, loving him relentlessly through everything he had put her through. She stayed because she was afraid, kept quite and calm by the coos and murmurs of how much she meant to him. And maybe he was hers as well, only to make it fair. Obviously nothing was equal in this relationship, though. It was take and take, give and give. Preston did the taking, mainly.

***

“You look so lovely today,” he breathed, watching Joanna take his empty plate that once held French toast over to the sink. She washed it off with some water, letting it sit against the white porcelain sink with her own dishes, where she would attend to them later.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, trying to ignore the slight blush rising to her cheeks. Somehow guilt was piled on top of her each time Preston laid a compliment on her. They came often after the bad days, slowing down to the point where the only words Preston uttered were harsh ones. That was when Jo knew she was in for it. That was the tell of Preston beginning to break and fracture, needing a fix of false power on those bad days.

It was just the night before that Joanna decided she was not going to deal with bad days, or good days, for that matter. She was going to be done with Preston once and for all. And her chance was coming today. Only a foolish girl would have overlooked this chance as let it slip by, like the foolish girl Joanna had once been had done so many times.

“You know I’m working all day today, right?” he asked, his voice abnormally soft to Joanna’s ears, making them perk up to the sudden tone change that was unfamiliar.

She nodded, looking over to him while wiping her hands on a small kitchen towel. While looking at his deep blue eyes, she wrung her hands together again, unnecessarily. Preston just watched her, watching him. They were trapped in each other’s eyes, and for a moment it felt just like things had felt before everything fell apart, and Preston revealed who he really was.

It was just a small moment, fleeting and imperfect as it left just as soon as it had appeared.

“And you’re staying here all day, right?” His voice was no longer soft, controlling and forceful now as this was his demand. She wasn’t allowed to go anywhere so long as he wasn’t by her side. For he knew that Joanna used to be a strong girl with a free spirit who didn’t allow anyone to control her. He broke that girl. And the most he hoped was that she never returned, because if she did, Preston would be alone again.

He had been so sick of being alone his entire life. He made sure with Joanna that he would never be alone again.

“I-I know,” she said, her voice faltering in just the slightest way that only happened when she was nervous. These days, it was hard to be anything but nervous when in Preston’s presence. His blue eyes were so misleading, the memories of the days that Joanna found herself lost in them were now replaced by the intimidating and hateful stares she met with cloudy eyes of her own. “I’ll be here. All day.”

Preston wiped his mouth with a paper napkin before tossing it into the trashcan under the sink, pressing his lips to Joanna’s in a brief kiss for just a moment. His blue eyes looked into her green ones, peering into them for some sort of sign. He wasn’t even sure what he was looking for, but it felt like there should be something inside of them. The only thing he saw was his own reflection.

The door shut loudly as he left the apartment, leaving Joanna to watch from the window, making sure he was safely out of the parking lot of their complex before moving to their bedroom. She looked around, taking a deep breath or two while spinning around. There was a lot she had to take with her, and hardly any time.

She’d have to call someone, anyone, to come and get her. Preston didn’t want her to have a car. Preston didn’t want her to have friends. There was no where to go, and no one to call. In all senses of the word, she was alone. Except when Preston was around, and those were the times she truly wished for nothing more than to be completely alone.

“I have no idea how I’m going to do this,” she whispered quietly to herself, as if scared that someone else would hear her.

And she was alone now. She had the choice, the chance, to take back her freedom. It was here today, staring right at her. How many other chances had she had, and simply looked over out of fear? Many. Many, many days had been chances and choices to make. Today was simply another, only hours away from disappearing. In just hours, the choice would be made for her if she didn’t act fast.

Preston would be home and she would be stuck inside of his arms when they went to bed that night. Or he could come home, and today could have been a bad day. And Joanna’s day would suddenly get much worse, just like many others before it had been so bad to the point of her own blood being spilled.

She didn’t want that. Not anymore.

“All right,” she said calmly, opening the door to their shared closet and peering in at all of her clothes. “All right,” she repeated, “I can do this. I will do this.”

Her fingers worked away at the hangers that held her myriad of shirts. Slowly they piled up on the bed she shared with Preston. They laid there, waiting to be folded and stuffed into whatever suitcases she could find. There had to be something around here to put her things in, just enough to bring most of her belongings to wherever she was headed after this.

Before unloading her shampoo and toiletries from the bathroom, she searched the linen closet and any other spare space that Preston could be keeping a suitcase. They only went out of town so often with each other. Joanna prayed that there was something around, or else she’d be leaving with nothing but the clothes on her back and whatever could fit in her purse.

With two strokes of luck and what felt like karma finally doing something good for Joanna, she found one large, rolling suitcase tucked under the bed. She heaved it out from under the bed and unzipped it, folding her shirts and tucking them in as efficiently as possible. Her toiletries followed, with whatever else she found and claimed to be hers. Things that by now Preston would say were his own, that Joanna owned nothing in this house, because he supported her, thus she didn’t deserve to call any of it her own.

The suitcase zipped, and Joanna noticed tears welling up in the back of her eyes, the familiar warm sting of the saltwater appearing this time not because of pain, but because of joy. She was getting out. It had been years spent with Preston - years spent in misery.

And after so many chances to escape had come and gone, she was taking one. She was reviving the girl who had been so spontaneous and free, before being broken down. That girl had died somewhere along the line in she and Preston’s relationship, and only now was she coming back to life.

“I am doing this, I am doing this,” she said, her voice trembling only from the tears of finally returning to the girl she once was.

She wheeled her suitcase to the front door, resting it on the wall while she looked around the kitchen for anything else she could take with her, that was respectfully hers. A fleeting thought of being the backstabbing bitch and taking every single thing with her when she left entered her mind, but that was not Joanna. She was taking what she could get at this point, and hopefully what she could get was as far away from here as possible.

Her phone was inside of her purse, as she dug it out and dialed the first number she could think of. Her mother. Joanna’s mother had heard only of how great Preston was, the boy he once was. Well, both of them changed quite drastically in this relationship, and only the two of them knew about it. Her mother was so happy to hear from the daughter she rarely talked to anymore, because Preston didn’t like it when Joanna called her mom. And she was more than happy to come pick up her daughter for what she thought would be a “lunch date.” She knew nothing of the filled-to-the-brim suitcase that Joanna was staring at while she was on the phone.

A goodbye was muttered into the phone, and Jo ended the call as she slipped out of the kitchen chair she had been sitting in. She made one last sweep in the bedroom, using the bathroom for the final time as she checked to make sure she grabbed everything she needed. This was of course the first time she had ever left someone in her life like she was leaving now, and she didn’t want to do it wrong and forget anything. There was no coming back here; not now, not ever.

Once she was gone, she was gone for good. She’d have to go far away to somewhere Preston could never find her, because there was more than a chance that he would come looking for her. Joanna couldn’t have that, because that might truly be the end of her life. As close as she had come some nights to death, there was not even a thought that Preston could restrain himself from doing the actual deed if he were to find her after she left.

Washing her hands, over the sound of water rushing from the faucet, Joanna thought she heard something.

Quickly she turned off the water, drying her hands on the towel hanging on the rack while her ears were perked up to hear any further noises. The sound of feet ruffling around in the entryway made her heart pound, dropping into her stomach as her cheeks burned a ferocious red all of a sudden.

And she hadn’t even seen his face yet.

Carefully, quietly, Joanna poked her head out of the bedroom. Preston was standing there, just inside the doorway, looking at her suitcase. This was it. This was truly the end now.

“JOANNA.” His voice boomed through the small apartment, racking her bones and her organs. Fear settled into her blood, pulsing through every vein and capillary in her body as she stood in the bedroom, holding her breath. He was home early. She could still try to leave. Maybe she could get out and run for her life, run to anywhere that was safe; anywhere away from here was safe.

“Y-yes,” she stumbled, appearing in the entryway now before him. His blue eyes were so unlike they used to be, only looking so saturated in hurt and hate and pain now. Maybe that’s how they had always been, and Preston was good at covering it up, or Joanna was bad at noticing it.

“What is this?” he asked, his voice menacing now as his fists were busy clenching and unclenching at his sides.

Obviously Preston knew what it was. A goddamn suitcase. The old, sarcastic Joanna would have pointed this out to him. But sarcasm didn’t fly with Preston after their relationship changed. The only thing it would have landed Joanna were some punches.

Joanna didn’t say anything. She only looked at Preston, fuming before her, and then to the suitcase that was leaning up against the wall.

“WHAT IS THIS?” he demanded, his voice escalading a few decibels as though Joanna were fifty feet away from him.

“It’s a suitcase, Preston.” As long as she was going to get shit for trying to leave, Joanna was going to be daring. She was going to say what she wanted, because at this point it didn’t even matter. The possibility of her heart continuing to beat on its own was growing smaller and smaller now as Preston stared at the suitcase. Joanna was going to do what she wanted.

“And you were going to do what with it?” he asked, his voice still rough and sounding like sandpaper on fragile skin. It hurt Joanna already to hear him talking like this. This tone of voice was only used when she was about to get it.

“I was going to leave.” Her voice was steady, a certain sense of power behind it now at this point.

He just looked at her. Those pools of blue were so deadly now.

“You were going to leave?” His voice was still strong and rough, terrifying and chilling Joanna’s bones as she stood before him. “And why would you do that, Joanna? When I have created the perfect life for you? You don’t have to work. You don’t have to go anywhere. I do everything for you! I love you!”

Her hands were shaking and her thoughts were no longer straight. The only thing she could focus on was moving around Preston, opening the door, stepping through it, shutting it, and leaving her old life behind.

“I do not have the perfect life, Preston. I don’t get to work, because you don’t want me to leave the damn house. I don’t get to go anywhere, because you don’t want me to have a life that isn’t all you. You don’t love me, Preston. Don’t even try to convince yourself that you can love me.”

“So what, you’re going to leave me? And go where? Might I remind you, you have no friends. Your family doesn’t even know who you are anymore.” His words were venomous and cold. But this wasn’t even close to bad yet.

The only thing Joanna could consider “bad” was when her eyes were swollen from either being hit, or crying from the aftermath. Or both.

“I am leaving you, Preston,” she said again, firm. She only dared to look at the suitcase, still not making an attempt to grab for it and maneuver around Preston.

“You’re not.”

He placed himself in front of the doorway, standing firm so that no matter what she tried, Joanna wasn’t getting out.

“You think anyone’s going to want to deal with you? Your sob stories and moans and cries about how hard you’ve had it. Joanna, I’ve done everything for you. As far as I’m concerned, you’re mine. I own you. No one else is going to want a whore like you who’s as beat up and worthless as a car without a motor. No one will want you.”

There was a moment of silence, filled with tension and heavy breathing before Joanna broke it.

“Well, you’ve wanted me all along, haven’t you?” Her own voice was laced with hate and venom and pain, hoping to pierce Preston and let the words sink into him. It was meant to be an insult, a mocking.

Swing.

Her vision blurred and her hand flew to the area of skin that burned from the punch. Joanna stumbled down, backing into a piece of furniture before toppling to the ground. Preston stood over her, and she winced from the pain of hitting her head on the ground after falling over.

She closed her eyes now as everything just started to go black, and after that, she couldn’t even feel anymore. She couldn’t tell if Preston was hitting or kicking her.

Maybe this was the end. She’d tried to get out and she’d been caught. And maybe she should have taken a chance before now, because maybe it would have all worked out. Or maybe she was just meant for this.

Joanna had been Preston’s from the beginning. Maybe it was just suiting that he was her end, as well.