Sweet Misery

Hayley’s POV

“She is your girlfriend, and running away from the problem isn't going to solve it.."
Catching a bit of Jeremy and John’s conversation, I cringe at how stupid I am. Of course he has a girlfriend. Why do I even care? I’m stuck with Chad, and the sooner I admit that to myself the easier I can make things for myself. But denial is so sweet, and I refuse to admit how much of a sticky situation I got myself in. Reality is too harsh, and I’m scared to face it. Sitting down at the edge of the pool and taking my shoes off, I dip my feet in, jumping a bit at how cold the temperature of the water is.
Even if John wasn't preoccupied with a girlfriend, that wouldn't change anything. I’m too weak, too fragile. I’m repulsive, which is why I was surprised when Chad first asked me out on a date, let alone took any interest in me before. Even though now our spark is gone, I can’t bring myself to leave him. It isn't even as easy as it seems, I've gotten myself stuck. If I ever even brought up leaving him, he’d be furious. I’m not even sure if you’d consider what we have a relationship. I don’t even know what to call it myself. I can’t leave Chad, or I’ll just be more alone than I am right now. He’s the only person left in my life, drunk or sober, he’s all I have left.

Waking up, I sit upright and stretch out my limbs. Looking to my right, tears well up in my eyes as I see the side of the bed where Chad sleeps is empty. It’s been happening regularly. And I’m scared to find out what this means for our relationship. If he isn't smoking, he’s either drinking. And if he isn't doing any of the two, then we’re usually yelling at each other. We've been doing so great for the past 2 years, but it all started when he forgot our anniversary. I’m not one to make big deals out of little things like that, but I truly thought our relationship meant more to him. But no, he spent our anniversary doing god knows what. I know he’s cheated on me, but I’m willing to forgive him if it just means that things will get back to normal. The bedroom door opens, and I look to see Chad trying to sneak in, but stops once he sees me. He walks in and shuts the door behind him forcefully, making me wince from the sound. The hickey on his neck is what catches my eye, and he notices my stare.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” He spits venomously. I make a little gesture to my neck, and he marches into the bathroom, examining it. I can hear his laughter through the closed door.

“We need to talk.” I murmur. My voice is just above a whisper.

“We are talking, Hayley.”

“Do you know what yesterday was?” I ask. He shrugs, spitting into the sink.

“I don’t fucking know, Wednesday?”

“It was my birthday, Chad.” Chuckling, he walks over to where I am on the bed.
“Yeah, and I’m the governor. Chill out, Hayley. I think I know when my own girlfriend’s birthday is.” Now I’m furious. Not only is he mocking me, but he really did forget. Normally, my heart would flutter at the sound of the word ‘girlfriend’ coming out of his mouth, but now all I feel is shame. I've let things go on for too long now. Getting up, I reach over to the closet, trying to grab my suitcase when a hand stops me, putting too much pressure and causing me to jerk to a stop.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I struggle out of his grip, but this only makes him hold on even tighter, no doubt stopping the blood circulation.

“Chad, ease up.” He doesn't. “I want to leave, you've been treating me like shit and I've just been sitting here taking it!” He pushes me, causing me to stumble and fall on the floor. The wind is knocked out of me as I try to process what exactly just happened. He’s never ever laid a hand on me. I try to stand back up, but he pushes me down again.

“You’re not going anywhere, Hayley. Whether you like it or not I’m all you have left. You leave me, and you’ll be completely alone. Now, I’m gonna let you get back up. Have I made my point clear.” Nodding, he loosens his grip on me. I know that as soon as he helps me get up, I’m bolting for the door. Standing up, I wait until he’s let go of my arm and run towards the door. Unfortunately, he’s faster than me and grabs me with both hands around the waist, bringing me down on the wood floor. My head hits the edge or the doorway on the way down, and then all I see is black.

I’m snapped out of my memory trance when I feel a presence next to me. Turning my head, I see John grinning nervously. I open my mouth to say something but I loose any train of thought as I’m pushed into the pool alongside with John.
Resurfacing, I’m gasping for air as John comes back up beside me. But I’m already pulling myself out of the pool and running indoors towards the bathroom. Words can’t describe how embarrassed I’m feeling. But only one thing is running through my mind: my makeup isn't waterproof. Panicking, I run and lock myself in the guest bathroom, slumping against the wall and cradling my head in my hands. You probably look like such a whore, with all of that makeup running down your face. No amount could ever make you beautiful, you'll always be disgusting, just like Chad is. No wonder why he hasn't left you yet, you're his disgusting, slutty punching bag. Somebody knocks on the door. I don’t answer.

“Hey..” It’s John’s voice. “I-I uh, have a towel for you?” It sounds like a question more than a statement. I've been so preoccupied with my thoughts that I didn't even notice how cold I really am. I walk over to the door, opening it wide enough so I can see John running his hands through his wet hair with a towel draped around his neck and one in his hand. He turns around hearing the door open and my eyes lock with his only for a moment. He wordlessly hands me the towel and I accept, wrapping it around my shivering, wet frame. He wraps his own towel around himself as well, and there's a few moments of silence. “I think Kat has some makeup, if you need too..” He trails of, gesturing to my jaw.

“I’m j-just gonna g-go home.” I speak through chattering teeth. I bolt out of the bathroom, past John and out the door and into my car. I don't hesitate as I put the key in the ignition, bringing the car to life and speeding out of the driveway.
Pulling up in front of our Chad and I’s shared home, my car and clothes are thoroughly soaked. The towel didn't help at all, because the water went right through it and went straight to my seats. The door suddenly slams open, revealing a very angry Chad.
He walks across the driveway, meeting me halfway and dragging me into the house by my hair despite my protests. He locks the door, closes the blinds and turns to face me. “Where the hell have you been? Why the fuck are you soaking wet?” He yells, just inches away from my face. I look down at the ground only to have my face forcefully jutted up. “Look at me when I’m speaking to you.”

“Sorry.” I whisper weakly.

“Do you have any idea what this makes me look like? You just show up, soaking wet with makeup running all over your face. Why do you wear so much anyways? Trying to cover up the fact that you’re a whore?”

Over the years I've learned that fighting back only makes it worse, but that doesn't stop me from doing so. I claw at his face, trying to rid myself free of his tight grip on my hair. Scratching his face as an attempt to get out of his hold, he abruptly let’s me go. Staring at me in utter shock, he comes at me again only to freeze. Somebody knocks on the door, this shocks the both of us. We usually never have surprise visitors unless Chad invited people over or it’s the concerned neighbors. He wordlessly points to the stairs, and I run up without hesitation, locking myself in the bedroom.