Chapter 2 – Damsel in Distress

Trigger warning: sexual harassment, mentions of anxiety.

Tears blurred Leal’s vision as she desperately tried to avoid the forceful slams of Dion’s liquor bottle on her throbbing head. She was feeling dizzy from the impact as she was slowly weakening from all the blood that was pooling on the bed.

Dion looked as if he’s lost his mind and had gone completely crazy from all the frustration that built up, tears were also running down his cheek as he never seemed to get tired from all the violence.

“Dion, stop! Please!” Begged Leal in a hoarse voice, she kept yelling at him to stop but he seemed as if oblivious to all her whims.

She only stopped when she felt a sticky substance spill down to the bed, from her mouth. She started breathing deeply, suddenly losing touch with everything. Her mind had gone hazy, keeping her from thinking straight. Leal’s world was spinning as her hands dropped to her side, tired of restraining.

Her head was caught in a haywire as she struggled to keep her consciousness, until finally, her vision darkened and she felt like falling into a deep, endless void.

The only thing she heard was a low vibration coming from her throat, which produced an inhuman growl.

She knew she was unconscious, yet why does she feel strengthened? She has her eyes closed, yet why are her ears active and upright?

Hoping that everything was only a mere nightmare, Leal fluttered her eyes open, the morning sunlight greeting her from the nearby window. She squinted, adjusting her eyes to the brightness, and looked around. She saw the broken glass shards littered in their room, her torn clothes, and blood splattered all over. Leal’s shoulders fell.

So it wasn’t a nightmare...

But what she couldn’t see, is the perpetrator.

Where’s Dion? Did he leave? She doesn’t know.

Leal’s eyes dropped to her nakedness and gasped. She tried feeling if the thing between her thighs hurt but it doesn’t. Does that mean nothing happened?

Nothing happened yet Dion still left? Am I that bad? She thought.

What she could feel is the pain in her head, most likely from the impact of the liquor bottle last night. She still couldn’t believe her angel-like partner was capable of such violence and harassment. Her hands shook, memories of last night resurfacing in her mind.

Slowly, Leal rose from the bed, her skin grazed by the sharp shards. What’s shocking is that she couldn’t even feel as much pain from the glass shards as she should, she even feels as if strengthened—which was odd.

Slowly tiptoeing out of the room, avoiding the littered mess, she grabbed the doorframe, as there was no door to begin with. Their oak door was ripped from its frame and was lying on the floor, being a complete wreck. Was Dion so desperate to leave me that he even broke the door? She wondered.

Leal couldn’t contain her curiosity as she continued out of the room, still completely naked, as she saw blood clots and drops on the floor. She followed it, wondering why Dion was bloody as he walked out. Perhaps his hand was also struck by the sharp shards?

Whatever the reason was, the bleeding was terrible. Leal followed the path of blood and even saw a few animal marks on some until the path ended at an open window.

She gasped as she clasped her hands over her mouth, realizing the scene that took place last night. Quickly, Leal looked out of the window, seeing the giant trash bin in the dark alleyway where one could land if jumping out of this window.

Her knuckles turned white while gripping the windowsill tightly. Anger burned in her heart at the thought of Dion’s desperation the previous night, bruised and bloody, to forever turn his back on her. Rage fueled her system as she gritted her teeth, tired of all the men leaving her in the freezing and scary dark. Looks like she never learns.

The only difference is that nothing ever happened to them yet Dion still left. And that he forced himself on her... and slammed her with a bottle when she refused.

Aggressively wiping a stray tear, Leal turned away from the window and marched to their bedroom. She can’t stand wasting another minute living in this place where another nightmare of hers took place. She grabbed her suitcase, unlocked it, and loaded it with her belongings. She didn’t have much, anyway. She never had a chance to go shopping as she was too busy at work and too eager to get home, always in hopes of having to cuddle with Dion.

Leal will run away, as Dion did, and forget this ever happened. She couldn’t bear the embarrassment and the anger that would surge within her, reminding her of the bruises and scars she received when looking at every inch of this place and remembering the nightmare.

It was horrendous.

Once her suitcase was full, she picked out an oversized sweater and leggings to cover her raw wounds. She tied her chocolate locks in a bun and wore ray-bans to hide her swollen eyes. She didn’t care how she looks right now. All she wants is to get out of this hellhole and put this behind her.

She shakily grabbed her phone and dialed a number she memorizes by heart. As the call was still ringing, she pulled out her suitcase and started walking out the door.

[Hello?]

Greeted the familiar chirpy and gleeful voice on the other end. By the comfort of the familiar voice, Leal’s heart warmed as her eyes watered. Finally, someone true and sincere to her.

“Izzy,” she called in a hoarse, raspy voice. Her voice trembled and so did her anxiety. She locked the door of their condo and never looked back as she entered the elevator.

[Leal! Why do you sound like that? Are you okay?] Izzy voiced from the call.

Izzy’s her college friend, and the only one that stuck with her for almost a decade now. She’s a famous and talented fashion designer, which was the complete opposite of Leal as she doesn’t have the best fashion taste, but they’re still so compatible as best friends.

“Can I come to your building?”

[Girl, do you even have to ask? Come over right now!]

As a small smile tugged the side of Leal’s lips, she pre-warned Izzy. “I have a suitcase with me.”

[What? Did you and Dion break up?] Izzy queried.

A sigh escaped Leal’s lips as she took her car keys and located her car in the parking lot. “Yeah.”

[Why? Oh my gosh, I need the tea right now! Come faster!]

Leal did as she was told, she sped up and drove straight to Izzy’s building which was a bit far from where Leal was staying. She was biting her lip really hard to fight the urge to spill the unshed tears glimmering in her eyes.

And as soon as she pulled up, she walked over to Izzy who was waiting for her in the building’s entrance. Izzy was only wearing her oversized hoodie and cycling shorts, as she was rushing to get down to welcome her close friend. Greeting her with a smile, Leal enveloped the smiling Izzy in a bone-breaking bear hug and hid her face in the former’s neck, finally releasing her tears.

It felt so good to pour out all her despair disguised in tears, in the arms of the person she trusts the most in the world—with no judgments, and just pure comforting silence.

“Shh, it’s going to be alright, love. You can cry all day long, you can weep today. But promise me you’ll stop tomorrow. You can start another life on another day. Everything’s going to be alright, soon enough,” she consoled.

Leal listened to Izzy’s soothing advice, as she slowly unloaded her sadness, including them in the teardrops dampening Izzy’s hoodie, as they will dry later and disperse, never to be seen nor felt again.

“Are you feeling better?” Izzy asked as Leal was cleaning her stained face with a tissue. She silently nodded and Izzy took that as a sign to get her suitcase and help her bring it to her condo. She already knows that Leal’s going to be staying at hers for a while.

Leal has that tendency to hold deep grudges against people or places, where her bad memories took place. It has always been like that.

“You can tell me what happened when you’re fine,” She muttered, giving Leal a gentle smile. The latter smiled in response and silently drank her water.

Izzy’s place is big enough for them to share. Her place is full of mannequins and paintings of clothes, which was not shocking as Izzy is a fashion designer. She knows it can be a bit messy if Izzy is working on an outfit, with scattered fabrics on the floor and threads. She can be a hindrance if Izzy’s working. That’s why she’ll only stay here for a week at most.

“Dion came home drunk last night,” Leal started with a shaky voice.

She knows she’s going to have to face all of these. May she be ridiculed and abused or if it was only a misunderstanding, it still hurts for her—but she can’t keep it all in.

And so Leal, with the utmost strength, reiterated every detail of what happened, controlling her tears of anger as Izzy listened.