1 | Stepping Out of the Darkness

It was a normal afternoon, the first one in years. The smooth feeling of the wind through my dark black hair gave me the feeling of freedom, long overdue after the pain and trifles of everyday life in a place that has long been imprinted in the space above my eyes. I knew that I wouldn't come close to healing for many years to come. My sapphire eyes gazed after the sun, slowly setting behind the trees and giving the sky a beautiful orange and pink glow. Sunsets are a beautiful thing to behold when they meant something more than they usually do. It's like the sunset was a beacon, leading me away from the darkness. I sit with my legs crossed on the green, soft grass of a cemetery hill. Whoever kept this place nice was certainly good at their job. The grass is fresh, the graves clean, and only new flowers adorned the deceased's resting place. The new graves shone in the golden light, reflecting the pearly stones like miniature suns. The old ones were rough and worn, but somehow they fit into the scene like a glove. I mean it is a cemetery. What was it going to be like out there? Was it the place I remembered, when I was a child? It's been a really long time since I saw the outside world, and through a child's eyes nonetheless. As an adult, I now realize that there are plenty of nooks and crannies where the darkness hides. The side of the world that people ignore, or become trapped in. It's stupid to take a break when people were after you, but I had been running for hours. The tight feeling in my chest dissipated when I fell onto this grassy hill, feeling like I had just fulfilled my destiny by finally breaking the path of provential things. I had been experiencing the world through glazed eyes, but I could finally see again.

It hurt to swallow, and my mouth was so parched from exertion. I ached to feel the soothing cold feeling of water on my face and down my throat; to feel the water going down into my stomach.

Walking on behind buildings as I walked out of the graveyard to get away from the highway, fear clouded my senses whenever I heard any slight noise, whether it was the blowing wind, the hissing grass, or the whooshing sound of an oncoming vehicle. I had a right to be scared, what if he found me? After all of this attempt at finding a better way to live.

I didn't want to go back to that horrible place, it held all of the nightmares and whiskey soaked fights and bloody knuckles. I wanted to see the good side of Kuza, but all he ended up giving me was deep cuts and bruises that ranged from black, purple, green, and yellow. The only reason I had stayed so long was because of his compassion sober. He could be so selfless, kind, and caring, but those times were just a lousy one out of ten. The kissing, hugging and cuddling were easily replaced with the more sinister. He smoked, drank, gambled our money away, and fucked me to get rid of the pent up emotions. It wasn't really love, just a way for him to get by and not go insane. It took me three years to realize that, and it took me another just to find the courage to leave while he was gone on a "business trip." I safely bet that he was in a dirty motel with a nice piece of ass right now. I felt tears fight their way to the surface of my eyes, threatening to spill over. I close my eyes and let the tears fall, and quickly wipe them away with the sleeve of my plain black sweatshirt. Just the idea of him being with someone else tore me apart more than anything, but I had to fight the urge to run back into his arms and apologize for leaving. I knew what would happen if I did, and it wouldn't be pleasant. My slightly damp cheeks felt cool to the wind as I picked up my pace, before my stomach growled in angry protest. I raised my blurry, tearful eyes to survey my options, and saw a small café across the street further ahead. My mouth watered as I envisioned the smell of coffee, and the delectable taste of something sweet. I absolutely love their cake pops, it's like they had an addiction agent! Sometimes when Kuza was in one of his good moods he would bring one home for me. I don't remember the last time I ate, it must have been a couple days ago at most. My memory served me little of the past five years, no doubt a trauma response. I finally put myself together emotionally before I walked up to the café and went inside, and ordered my favorite coffee with a brownie cake pop. Business was slow, because it was late and I bet they would be closing soon. I took a seat at a black square table, with hard wood chairs with no padding in a lonely corner. I had stolen some of Kuza's money from the glass jar he hid on top of the kitchen cupboards in that space before they reached the ceiling, a place where I couldn't blatantly reach unless I crawled up on the counter to get it. Kuza easily has almost a foot on me. The money was another reason I couldn't go back, he would wring my neck if he discovered that I took some. He can easily overpower me.

Lost in my thoughts, I panicked when the barista called my name with my coffee in her hands. That anxiety that someone recognized me, knew me, or was a friend of Kuza's terrified me to no extent. I couldn't be caught. I swallowed my distress as I took the coffee from her, thanking her before leaving. She seemed tired. My hands were trembling, whether it was from the caffeine as I took a swig or from where my mind had wandered. I ate the cake pop in one bite because I could.

I was walking down that street when hands grabbed me from behind and pulled me into the alley beside the café. My coffee slipped out of my hands, and splattered all over the off-white concrete of the sidewalk before my ass met the dirty asphalt of the alleyway. My heart beat deep in my chest, the feeling reverberating to my throat. I was scared, and I didn't know what was happening. I caught my breath and surveyed the situation. I scramble my legs, touching my back to the side of the next building. Eyes wide at the person in front of me.

Kuza's friend, Davey.

"I'm gonna give you one chance, Rick. What are you doin' out?" He sneered. Davey was Kuza's right hand man, the one that knew everything about our relationship and the rules that kept me in line. One of the rules was that I never got out, so I couldn't snitch or worry anybody with my bruises and black eyes. Davey looked like shit. He had bags under his eyes, like he hadn't slept in days. His hair was disheveled, his clothes wrinkled. His eyes were stony, and when I met them I immediately looked away and didn't say a word. "Answer me, you lil' shit!" He warned again, a low taunting in his voice. I close my eyes, flinching at his raising voice.

"J-just went out for coffee.." I whispered. Davey scoffed, and slapped me hard against the cheek.

"Truth. Now."

I start crying then, shaking my head while Davey keeps a grip on my jaw with his leathery hands. He forces my face up, and threatens me. I feel helpless, like all I did today and the planning I've done for weeks had been leading to this. I was never meant to win. Davey kicked in between my legs, and I cried out and bent over. Wheezing, I lay to the side and let out a few agonized whispers to stop. Davey doesn't adhere to my words as he kicks me unmercifully. Every kick against my legs and stomach initiate a new pain, and I cry harder. I don't even try to fight back, knowing that it would be useless and make him more angry. Davey lifts me up into a sitting position again, and punches me hard across the mouth with his other hand gripping my sweatshirt. I feel my lip split open, and Davey takes one of my lip rings and yanks it out, ripping the soft flesh of my lips. I shout at the pain and then sob quietly, putting my hand to my face; questioning why no one has come to my aid. I can feel the blood leaving a trail down my chin. Cars pass by without a care, or unaware to the occurrence. No one investigates the sound of my agonized crying, or the angry yelling. I was completely and utterly alone in this world.

"Hey, Assfuck." I heard a voice yell from the sidewalk beyond the alley. Whoever it was sounded angry, and I shrunk into a ball because he was undoubtedly talking about me. I heard the footsteps of the man draw closer, and was shocked to hear the sound of a fist colliding with skin that wasn't mine. I peeked through my arms at my huddled position. The mystery man punched Davey hard across the jaw, and hearing a snap, I knew that something was broken. Davey collapsed to the ground, unconscious. He hadn't even had the time to register that the man was punching him, the new figure had reacted that quickly at the situation. At the sound of nearing footsteps I glanced upward, fully exposing my face. I immediately cried out in desperation.

"Don't hurt me!"

Kuza? It looks like Kuza. Is it Kuza?

"I won't hurt you. You're safe now."

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I don't want Kuza like this but it's necessary for the storyline.. Sorry babies :(

Also I just left a relationship so that could mean I update more or way less. Bear with me, I'm in emotional pain.

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