Release Me

I had no idea where I was going, I just kept walking. My feet were aching, and the heel of my foot was burning from how much I was walking. I had tremendous stomach cramps, and my breathing was coming out in harsh breaths. My cheeks were damp from when I was crying. I didn't want to be around my house anymore. I wanted to get away from it all. I've been violated, abused, and hurt in every way possible. I just couldn't take it anymore.

I debated whether or not I should go to his house or not, I'd doubt he'd want me there anyways, but it didn't hurt to try. So, I started walking in the direction of his residence. I prayed that he would at least let me in, even if it was for a little while. We haven't talked in almost four months, so I had no clue what his reaction would be when he saw me outside his door.

His house was coming into view, and it looked the same as it had when I first met him. The same dingy, white apartment stood before me. I quietly opened the gates, considering I didn't want to make any noise in the middle of the night, and walked up the cement steps. I noticed an old man was sitting in front of the door. He was smoking.

“Who are you?” His gruff voiced asked me. I wondered what he was doing out so late, and why he wasn't asleep.

“I'm just... visiting a friend.” I replied, pulling down the sleeves of my sweaters.

“At this time?” I nodded. He looked at me for a while, calculating if he should let me in or not, I assumed, before he slowly got up from the wooden chair and took out a key. He unlocked the door before opening it for me.

“Thank you,” I told him, before I went up the steps two at a time to the third floor.

–

The anticipation I felt, after I knocked on his door three times, was driving me crazy. After no one answered, I was afraid that they didn't live here anymore. I knocked a couple more times. No one answered, again, so I began to turn around. Before I could head back down the steps, the lock was unlatched and the door was opened.

“Cinthia?” His voice held a mixture of confusion and shock. Almost immediately my vision began to blur before I turned around, ran into his arms, wrapping mine around his neck, and sobbed uncontrollably.

“Jonathan,” I cried. “I can't take it anymore.” He knew exactly what I was talking about.

“Come on, Cinthia.” He complained. “You're gonna wake up my ma,” He picked me up, my legs immediately wrapping around his torso, and brought me to his bedroom. It was where I had talked to him, really talked to him, about this for the first time in forever. And after I was done talking to him about it, I had never felt so free in my life.