Lost

She sat, once again huddled in a corner, but this time it was in the corner of her bathroom. Her music was blaring from her headphones and sweat and blood dripped from her body. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she silently cried. Red began to stain the tile floor but she didn’t care and didn’t bother to move, it hadn’t been the first time this had happened.

She should’ve been used to it by now, yet she wasn’t; she was afraid she would never become used to it. She contemplated her life, as she did every moment of everyday. She knew that it would happen again, that he would do it again. And she knew that she couldn’t escape him, couldn’t get away from it. It would keep happening until she died. If only she could speed up the process. That’s when she decided it was time to end this. She was going to save herself from more suffering, the only way she knew how. He would never abuse her again; she wouldn’t let him. It would end- she would make it.

She got up, no longer crying. Now in her eyes, instead of fear, there was determination. She went to the window, leaving a trail of blood from where he had hurt her. She popped open the window, then climbed out and as she closed it back she ignored the smudge of crimson remaining, telling the world of her new-found pride. She walked away, not daring to look back at the house that was no home. If she had she might have seen the outline of him on the couch, downing another beer.

She walked down the road, now with a purpose. She wasn’t sure where she was going, but wherever it was, it was better than where she came from.
She didn’t pay attention to where she was going. She wandered, almost zombie-like, throughout the night, to wherever she felt. She made random turns, a right here, a left there; somehow she was being led, right to where she was meant to be.