Chapter 9

Charlotte stood at the kitchen sink, rinsing the dishes and cleaning up from dinner. She was almost finished when Max came up behind her and grabbed her, making her drop the dishes and turn toward him.

“C’mon, babe, let’s go to the bedroom,” he said. Charlotte wasn’t surprised by the alcohol that she
smelled on his breath. She had gotten used to it.

“I have to finish the dishes,” she said, not thinking about how he would react to her indirect refusal.
His jaw locked and his eyes turned a few shades darker than their normal mud brown. “What did you
just say? Because I know for a fact that you did not just say no to me,” he said.

“No, I’m sorry lets go,” she said, trying to recover the situation, but Max was already too far gone to reason with.

“I have had enough of your bitchy attitude,” he shouted. Charlotte flinched and turned back to the dishes, knowing that it would be easier to take his yelling if she wasn’t looking at him.

“You better look at me when I’m talking to you,” he commanded, taking a few steps closer to her, pinning her against the front of the sink and keeping her from moving. His hands wrapped around her
arms tightly, and red marks formed where Max’s fingers made contact with her skin.

In the sink, Charlotte’s hand grasped something silver and shiny, with a curved handle that fit to her hand. She thought that in this moment she could end it all. Al she had to do was turn and swing.

So she did.

He would have been impaled in the heart if he hadn’t ducked out of the way. But Charlotte didn’t give up. While he was reaching to grab her arm again, she swung the knife again and hit him in the arm this time, forming a long gash that stretched from his elbow to the middle of him forearm. Amidst slashing at him, she hadn’t realized it, but she nicked herself and her hand bled at a steady pace.

“Fuck!” he screamed at the moment the blade broke his skin. He grabbed at his arm while Charlotte ran for the door. Max, however, was faster than her, and he caught up to her and grabbed her, throwing her on the ground and into the furniture in the living room.

Charlotte’s head hit the ground hard, and when she was snapped out of her dizzy state, she was being kicked and stomped on by the man she had just attempted to kill. She screamed and cried, hoping that anyone would hear her, but the neighbors were hardly ever home, and the walls were soundproof.

Max picked her up again and dragged her by her hair to their bedroom where he slammed the door shut and had his way with his girlfriend, who was almost passed out from the pain.


Charlotte was sure she was dead. All she could see was black. But she felt an immense amount of pain, which meant that she was, unfortunately, still very much alive.

She lifted her hand to her eye, only to find that it was surrounded by swollen tissue, and she couldn’t open it. The other eye wasn’t as bad, as she was able to open it, but it was still a black eye, and no amount of makeup would be able to cover either of them. That meant that she would be locked up in the house until the swelling minimized and the bruising around her eyes disappeared.

The body next to her slept, looking peaceful in the morning light. Max had a friendly face, which is why Charlotte was attracted to him in the first place, but she soon realized that the friendly exterior shielded his inner monster.

She got up out of bed, knowing that even though she could hardly see, Max would still expect his daily breakfast. Walking into the kitchen, she saw the aftermath of the fight last night, and was shocked by how much they had broken. Plates that had previously occupied the kitchen table were strewn across the floor in several pieces, and the cups didn’t look any better.

She busied herself with cleaning upon hearing shuffling coming from the bedroom. While she was scraping shards of glass into a dust pan Max appeared in the kitchen entryway, looking almost as bad as Charlotte. He trudged to the fridge and upon seeing it almost empty, slammed it shut and turned to Charlotte looking almost as menacing as he had last night.

“Why the fuck are we out of beer? I took you shopping two days ago,” he shouted at her, obviously not realizing that he was the only one who drank in the house and he had drained the entire 48 pack by himself.

“I’m sorry, I can go shopping again if you want,” she offered, hoping that she would be able to leave the house, despite having a black eye.

“Just this once you’ll go by yourself. I have a meeting to go to,” Charlotte knew he was lying and couldn't bear to leave the house with his raging hangover, but she didn’t question him; she was just happy to be able to go out by herself. “I’ll be back around two, and if you aren’t home by then I’ll find you.”

Charlotte felt the goosebumps coming on before they actually found their way to the surface of her skin and let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding when Max headed to the bedroom and slammed the door behind him. She was once again coming up with plans to leave, running them around in her mind and toying with each one until it was perfectly constructed, but she knew she would never go through with it. She debated finally calling her father and decided that she would do it sometime soon. She hoped that if she did, he would detect the suffering in her voice and come to her rescue.
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Yikes. This is knida an awful chapter but i wanted to get something out because its been a while and im really sorry about that. I really have no excuse other than I was too lazy to edit this but Ive got more motivation now so hopefully youll see updates for this more often. As always, thanks for reading, let me know what you think, and stay safe.