DEBAUCHED LOVE

CHAPTER 2

Heart racing, nervous sweat dripping down her face, Soraya twists the doorknob to her apartment open. The narrow, dirty street is eerily quiet. Most lights in the run down apartment complex look on. She’d got lucky with her apartment, on the ground floor directly overlooking the dark alleys that led to the main Street, the position meant she didn’t have to worry about using the rickety, prone to spoiling elevator or stress herself going up the rusty stairs.

She enters the small apartment breathing a sigh of relief at the silence as the engagement ring weighs heavy in her purse. She hadn’t felt ok leaving the ring at the hotel in case the man came back for it. He didn’t strike her someone she’d want to annoy.

Soraya’s heart drops as the smell of alcohol wafts through her nose, she knows he has to be in her room. He’d probably been waiting for her. The knowledge that her sister is still at a 2 day sleepover gives her a sense of calm as she enters her room. Sure enough a 6’2 man occupies the tiny space the small springy bed in the middle of the room provides. His dark eyes spring open at the sound of Soraya entering the room.

The tall bulky man springs up, fire in his eyes as he approaches an already shaking Soraya

“Where were you?”

Soraya trembles as she tries to stammer out an answer unsuccessfully. Her fear doesn’t deter him as his eyes seem to light up at the promise of what he knows he’ll surely do to her.

“You said you’d be gone a few. Why do you make me do this?”

His manipulative tongue spits out sharply as he advances closer to her with each word. Soraya closes her eyes, bracing herself for whatever he may do. His tone rises up notches as he hits her to the ground with the back of his hand

“Why do you make me hit you! You force me to correct you every f*****g time!”

She whimpers as a fist connects with her jaw, blood spilling out of her mouth in a chain reaction. She has no time to beg as another hit to the same spot has her seeing spots. Her headache returns with a fiery blast as she lets out screams after screams while he hits her. He doesn’t stop as with every hit he’s reminding her she makes him do it.

“Am I not enough! Why do you have to w***e your way into every man’s arms the minute you get a f*****g chance”

She feels her purse get ripped out of her hand, it lands with a thud, it’s contents spilling as the man flings it away. She audibly gasps, struggling to sit up as he gets off her moving towards the ring that has caught his eye.

“What is this!”

Her back is propped against the bedroom's creaky door as support.

“I…it…it’s not what y….you think Matt”

He turns his attention back to the ring

“Did he give you this! What’d you do for it huh? f*****g b***h!”

He pockets the ring eyes still blazing as Soraya begs for it back. She reaches out to touch him when he’s close enough. Holding on to the faded Jean trousers he has on

“Let go Soraya”

“P…please Matt…I can’t loose t…that r…ring”

He grabs the only thing decorating the moody, dirty walls, a framed picture of two happily smiling girls and before Soraya can react smashes it on her fisted hand.

A guttural scream of pain leaves Soraya’s throat as blood pours from her cut skin. She doesn’t mind the wound as she grabs at the broken frame, slicing her palms on the shards of glass. Matt casually walks to the door, turning back to face Soraya

“Clean it all up before I get back”

He walks out the door, leaving Soraya in a bloody mess. It’s the worst he’s ever hit her. As she sits there a heap of blood and tears she can’t help but think its her fault

I shouldn’t have been that drunk…If id gotten back he wouldn’t have hit me.

She crawls across the worn out dirty rug, blood he’d beaten out of her being most of the dirt dried into the rug to the tiny bathroom in her room still holding the picture.

Disgusted with the idea of having to crawl on the tiles of the bathroom she weakly grabs the doorknob, pain she ignores radiates around her body bringing more tears to her eyes as she lifts herself with the support.

“f**k”

She sobs out as she finally lifts herself to a semi standing position, straining her possibly bruised ribs. She knows he didn’t break it, he’s done that before, she can tell the difference.

Making the decision to treat herself to avoid the unnerving judgmental looks of the local nurses when she gives a bullshit story of falling down the stairs she doesn’t have, she grabs the first aid box on the rickety sink. The cuts on her palm sting as she carries the box, stumbling. Another jolt of pain radiates through her as she makes the effort to walk towards her dresser chair.

In two steps she’s seated on the chair, smearing blood on everything she makes contact with. Her blurry gaze moves to the half broken mirror propped against the wall and rickety dresser table. Blinking away her tears to clear away her tears, she winces as her head pounds aggravated at the effort she took to rapidly blink.

More clearly, her face stares back at her, there’s a trail of drying blood down her nose and lips, a tiny cut on her left brow and an already bruising mark on her jaw where he’d hit her. She’s more concerned on fixing up her face before she checks out the rest of her probably bruised up body.

It’s more blood than injuries. I can finish off before he gets back, if he gets back tonight

She drops the picture and first aid box on the table ready to play nurse. She takes out the rough cloth cut she’d grown accustomed to using on her injuries out, damping it with the bottle of a mild soap and water mix she’d learned to always leave in the box. She winces almost sobbing out as she cleans the semi-dry blood on her face, making sure she doesn’t apply too much pressure around the bruises.

Blood finally off her face she can clearly see the purple-blue bruise forming on the two sides of her jaw just under the black eye she’s sporting. Tears fill her eyes as she blames herself for his actions. Buying in to his words that it was and will always be her fault whenever he hit her.

With no money to have ointments for bruising or money to pay the electric bill to ensure Ice in the fridge, Soraya leaves the bruises alone. She’d wear makeup to hide them as usual.

Her body still throbbing with pain she plants her feet former to the ground, ready to support her body into a stand when her eyes notice the envelope on the table.

Curious, she reaches out, noticing it’s already been opened, she doesn’t waste time pulling out the document in it

Notice of eviction

Her pain is forgotten as she stares at the header words on the document in disbelief

Notice of eviction

This letter is to notify you, Miss Soraya Elsher that you are to vacate the apartment you currently reside in before the end of the week as your rent is past due. I, your Landlady have fulfilled my part, sending you a replica of this letter, a month ago and another a week before today. This is your last and final letter as the police will get involved if you are not out of the apartment by Sunday in two days.

Her head feels light as she sways on the chair, holding her trembling hand to the shaking dresser for support. She’d given Matt the full rent for two months to pay a month ago.

Oh God he’s gambled it away

“f**k!”

She ignores the pain it causes her to move as she slides everything on the dresser to the floor in maniacal rage dropping her head to the table.

Heart wrecking sobs escape her mouth as she contemplates her existence and how she’d escape this hole. She’d barely paid her thirteen year old sister, Andrea’s tuition. She’d starved herself to save up for the rent and he’d blown it on his gambling.

She stands up from the chair, stumbling to the couch her phone had thankfully landed on when he’d thrown her bag. She rapidly types in his number, calling him as she fights the urge to throw something. It goes straight to voicemail twice.