My foxy girlfriend

The sun had begun to set and the only sound cutting through the silence and serenity of the moment was the blasting music coming from my neighbor's building beside ours. I just wonder how loud it is in his building if it's this loud outside. I would have marched down there and talked sense into his soundproof skull if I had been done cleaning the house, but who was I kidding Denver would have my head if he knew that I spoke to the neighbors. Immediately after I was done cleaning, I decided to prepare something for dinner before Denver returned from work.

Thirty minutes later, while cooking pasta which I craved, I heard the sound of the front door unlocking. I wasn't expecting him to be home so early. I quickly rushed to the cupboard and grabbed some plates ready to dish pasta when I heard the sounds of things crashing to the ground, I froze contemplating whether or not to continue my latter mission.

I heard him call out to me as loud footsteps stumbled through the darkness of the living room. He was drunk as usual, I knew what was coming next, something I had endured for the past six months ever since his mother died in a plane crash.

He would get angry and hit me, then go back to the caring and loving husband that I fell in love with and apologize.

" Wifey, I am sorry, you know I have a lot on my mind"

" Wifey, you know am facing a lot of trouble at work"

" Wifey, you didn't follow the rules, you provoked me"

His excuse became more unreasonable as time went on till there was no excuse for his actions. From hitting me to beating and then cutting. It was as if he derived joy in doing it like, that was the only thing that made the death of his mother less painful. There was a time I pitied and even understood him but after much beatings and torture, I became the confused and broken one.

I also lost my parent and not once did I pass my aggression to someone else.

" Wifey" he slurred.

His voice was getting closer, I guess he was in the dining room. I dropped the plate on the counter quietly as I bent down. He opened the door with such force that it almost fell off its hinges. He wobbled into the kitchen to the cupboard where I took a plate, then he looked around the kitchen, the moment he began walking towards the fridge directly facing where I was. I scrawled around the counter to the side facing the door. I looked behind me in time to watch him as he slipped on something on the floor, his hands looking for something to hold onto as he fell but unluckily for him grabbed onto the plate on the counter. I chuckled silently as the plate smashed on his head.

I quickly ran to the door and up the stairs into our bedroom. Looking around the room, the space under the queen-sized bed was not enough to contain me. And he would surely check the wardrobe if he came in since that was where I hid the last time, so the only safe place is in the bathroom.

"Where are you?" He asked angrily. I didn't waste any more time. I locked the door and slipped into the bathtub trying to steady my breathing and hoping he passed out before he got to me, but I still wasn't lucky.

I am done, I am so done with him and that's why I am in my shiny black Mercedes car, miles away from where I used to call home with most of my properties in the trunk and backseat filled with snacks to keep me going for two more days. I don't plan on going back ever again neither do I plan on stopping anytime soon.

I don't know where I am going now maybe Anchorage or Alaska, either of those two which he knew I would never go to since I know nobody there. I have been driving for two days and I can't even feel my legs anymore, for the past two days I have been avoiding coming out of the car so no one would see my battered face and also make it difficult for him to get to me.

Looking at the rearview mirror my eyes swell in tears as the only thing I see is a girl who has experienced pain and disappointment over and over again. This girl looks pale with bruises all over her and an angry red and puffy slice on her right cheek where he had cut her with his pocket knife which was always with him, then there is her bedraggled red hair and her swollen left eyes from where he had hit her which has turned now turned a black and blue.

That was just my face my body was more broken than meet the eyes. My heart is shattered into a million irreplaceable pieces and that is just how my life feels right now. "When there is life, there is always hope" that's what my mother used to say.

That was my comfort whenever Denver hit me, that was what gave me the boldness to leave the hell I once called home but now saying those words out didn't make me feel any comfort or boldness rather it made me feel depressed and lost.

A car horn drew me out of my thoughts with a new plan. A few hours after I entered Alaska, I found myself driving into the woods till the road became very narrow for my car to pass through and the tall trees denser.

I parked my car swearing since my main plan was to drive off Denali Cliff which was a few miles away from here. Or what is the essence of running if I wouldn't stop to enjoy life? I don't want my life to be a game of hide and seek.