About Falling

Around 11 later that night, Jake burst through the door in all his drunken glory. He wobbled through the apartment to the bed where Cheyenne had situated herself for sleep. He got on top of her and pinned her down.

Cheyenne woke up and fought back, pushing him off as best as she could. She yelled at him to stop and he yelled back his cruel words. She winced and cried out in pain and kicked him off and got off the bed. She back away to the doorway.

"Cheynne, get the fuck over here right now." He glared.

"You're drunk, it's disgusting." She yelled and wiped the parts of her he kissed and held her abdoman as it throbbed.

"That's it, you little-" He got off the bed and rushed towards her and Cheyenne stepped back and turned on her heel and ran for the bathroom.

She pushed open the door and slammed it, locked it and sunk to the floor, ignoring her body's pain filled response. She started crying and rubbed her cheeks and wrists where he had her pinned.

"I hate you!" She yelled through the door and burried her head.

"Fuck you Cheyenne! You're always gonna be alone in this world! I'm all you have!" He yelled back and she glared up at the door.

This behavior, or this activity rather, was not uncommon for them. But it scared the hell out of Cheyenne every single time. She didn't understand why neighbors never turned them in, or why she never got the courage to call the cops herself.

She cried for what felt like hours, but she looked up to the small clock on the wall to see that only an hour had passed in reality. She stood up and pushed her palms and an ear to the door, listening for any noises. She opened it slowly after 10 minutes of silence and rushed out, grabbing her purse and jacket, ignoring the fact that she only had a tank top and pajama shorts on. She rushed out the door and down the stairs.

She reached the door of her car and realized she didn't have the keys. Not brave enough to return, Cheynne pulled the jacket onto her freezing body and clutched her phone tightly. She walked for blocks until she came to her mom's small, old house. The house where she spent most of her teen years.

She reached under the mat, and even looked in the pot of flowers, searching for the key that would allow her to enter a safe environment. She was not successful in finding it. She cried with frustration and unlocked her phone. She knew it was a waste to call Mollie, who she knew was with her boyfriend, and an even bigger waste to call her mom who was probably long gone from town.

She walked down the street and tried to cover herself as best as possible. She was so uncomfortable, cold, and scared. It was late and dark and she didn't know what the nights were like outside of her apartment walls.

Cheyenne walked until 2, looking for someone she knew, or even for a bench, tree, or safe spot to rest her eyes and feet.

"I hate this." She started crying again and wiped her eyes furiously. Her options were to either sit in the park all night, or to face Jake, deal with it, and go back home.

She looked down at her phone and sighed, praying to God that she would find comfort in the one last person she could think of.

Bam.