Papercut

Do you think you’ve had enough?
Does he make you want to fall in love?
Looks like you’re afraid to be alone
You’re better on your own
I sat in the police station with my head down, while waiting for the officer to come back out and speak to me. I brushed my fingers over the cuts on my hands, and winced a little bit.

“Ms. Mesko?” I heard a gruff voice say from the doorway.

I looked up, and he motioned for me to join him in the office. I stood up, and pulled my cardigan tighter to my body, before slowly walking into the cool, dim office. I sat in the hard, plastic chair, and waited for the officer to speak to me.

“Ms. Mesko, I would like to hear your account of what happened this evening,” he said turning on a tape recorder, “You’ll be recorded, is that okay?”

I mumbled a quick yes, before taking in a deep breath and trying to decided where to start.

“Well, Brady and I went out drinking with a few of our friends tonight, like we do every Friday night,” I said with a shaky voice, “When we got home, he was really angry, and I made the mistake of asking him why. He said it was because my top was too low, and I wouldn’t stop flirting with his friend James.

“I tried to tell him that I wasn’t flirting, but he didn’t want to hear it. It started out with a slap to keep me quiet, and I finally got tired of it. I tried standing up to him, and that’s where it started getting bad. He hit me a few more times, before pushing me into the end table where I fell on the cup and broke it. That’s where all the cuts on my hands are from.

“Our neighbors must have finally heard, and after a bit more struggle, you guys showed up.”

I had to use everything in me to not shake or cry while telling the story. The officer wrote a few things down in what looked like a file, before looking up at me.

“Is this the first time Mr. Gerlick has physically challenged you?” he asked looking over the rims of his glasses.

I let out a barely audible no, before the officer turned off the tape-recorder and shut the file. I looked back down at my hands, and could feel the officers eyes burning into me.

“Since Mr. Gerlick has a history of domestic violence, he’s being held for a week, and charged with a hefty fine,” the officer said looking at me, “You won’t have any charges, seeing as you acted in self defense. You’ll be free to go, and can use the phone if you need to call someone to pick you up.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said standing up and leaving the office.

I walked to the courtesy telephone that hung on the wall, and dialed the number that seemed to be etched into my brain. He answered in a tired tone, but was fully alert once I told him my location and the help I needed. He told me he’d be there as soon as he could, and I made my way to the front of the station to wait.

I found my pack of Marlboro 27’s in the bottom of my purse, and pulled one out before lighting it. I took a long drag, and felt myself relax as the nicotine entered my body. I was so lost in thought that I barely heard his car pull up to the curb in front of me.

I didn’t break from my gaze, until my bleach-blonde savior was standing directly in front of me. I flicked my cigarette to the side, and stood up while wrapping my arms around his middle. He embraced me as well, and ended it by kissing the top of my head and leading me to the passenger seat.

The ride started off silently, but when he noticed the cuts decorating my hands, he finally opened his mouth.

“Payton, when are you finally going to leave that monster?” he asked in a soft but stern voice.

“We’ve been over this, Joshua, I can’t just leave him,” I said already aggravated, “I love him, and we’ll get through this.”

“You can tell yourself that all you want, but I know the truth,” he said while glancing at me, “You’re just afraid to be alone. You stick with him because it’s familiar. You’re afraid that if you leave him, you’ll have no one. Which you know isn’t true. You have your real friends, like me, the guys and Jess. You need to realize this before it’s too late.”

“Josh just shut up,” I said hitting the dashboard, “You sit there acting like you know everything about the relationship, but you don’t. You know he hits me sometimes, but it’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad?” he asked exasperated, “I just had to pick you up from the police station where he’s being held for domestic violence. You can’t tell me it isn’t bad.”

I shot him the dirtiest glare I could, before turning my body and facing out the window. I watched the scenery, and realized that we were going to my place, instead of his. I sighed, and glanced over at him, noticing the hard look set on his face.

“I hope you know I only do this because I care about you, Payton,” Josh said as we stopped in front of my apartment building, “I just don’t want to read about you in the newspaper one day under the headline of ‘Death by Domestic Violence’. I care too much.”

I bit my lip, and looked over at him with a thankful look, before getting out of the car and walking to the apartment. I heard him pull away, and felt tears stinging the back of my eyes. I threw my purse on the couch once I was inside, and instantly starting sweeping up the glass from the hardwood floors.

When I was done putting everything in it’s rightful place, I went into the bathroom to put my pajamas on. I looked in the mirror for the first time since the fight, and was almost disgusted with how I looked. My bottom lip was split near the middle, and I had a dark black eye on the right side. My arms were lingered with fingerprints, and I could still see my cuts on my hands. I let a tear roll down my cheek, before retreating into the bedroom and hiding under the blankets and pillows.