Second Chance

"I'm sorry, but I don't think it's a good idea for you to stay here anymore," Ellen tells me.

"Look, I--"

"No. Please. You have until tomorrow. Then I want you to leave."

With this, she heads up the stairs, leaving me in the living room, wondering what to do next.

I suppose I have no choice but to respect her wishes. This is her house, after all.

I go up to the guest bedroom, and lie down. I can't stop the thoughts of her from invading.

Sleep begins to numb my mind, and I let it.
___________________________________

"Get off of me, Vance," Ellen pleads.

Her nose is bleeding.

I slap her across the face.

She screams.

My head is spinning, my mind hazy. A deep fury permeates throughout my body.

I hit her again.

On the floor around us, are shards of glass from the vodka bottle I'd smashed across her back just moments before knocking her to the floor.

She is crying now.

She makes no attempt to fight back.

This makes me angrier.

I am yelling now. Swearing in her face, insulting her. I tell her that she is ugly, that she is stupid, that she is worthless.

And then I pass out, collapsing on top of her.
________________________________________

I awake drenched in sweat, my heart pounding.

The dream replays so vividly in my head.

Once again, I know that this wasn't simply a dream. It was a memory. One of many just like it.

But it can't be, no. It can't. I would never hurt Ellen, never. I would never hit her, say such things to her.

I struggle to come to terms with the painful reality of how little I really know of myself. Of this person who is me, but isn't, both at the same time.

It's 2:17am according to the clock at my bedside.

I jump up, and make my way toward Ellen's room.