The Waiting Game
He was screaming again, but this time felt different. Menacing. I couldn't tell you today what he was so angry about; I didn't even know then. I never knew. By this point, I had stopped trying to guess.

He seemingly hated me but wouldn't let me leave him. He sunk his teeth in, filling me with venom, but would clench harder if I tried to pull away. He ignored my calls if I wanted him near, but he would stalk me what I wanted him gone. He would tell me he was done with me, but then destroy any chance of me forming a new relationship. It was made very clear: I was his property.

He was seething again, but this time felt different. Fatal. I'd never seen his crystal blue eyes so black, his pale skin so red. He was towering over me in nothing but his boxers, his entire body swaying with the intensity of his breathing. His fists were clenched to the point of shaking on either side, elbows bowed and ready to unleash.

My keys, phone, and shoes were taken from me; I was being held hostage. I asked him to please, please let me leave. He told me no. I asked him to please, please let me have my things. He told me no. The door behind him let out to the alleyway that our apartments shared. Recognizing the challenge of trying to get past him, I slowly back into the open doorway of his bedroom. I tried to remember the exact layout of the apartment behind me, planning my escape through the main entrance.

Just as I was about to sprint barefoot from his apartment, his roommate walked in with whatever girl he brought home that night. I locked eyes with him, silently pleading for him to stay. With a scoff and roll of his eyes, he walked back out as suddenly as he’d entered.

My heart dropped as I sucked in a breath, and before I can fully turn back around to face him, he grabbed me by the neck and slammed me against the doorframe. He closed the door on my back and shoulders over and over before squeezing me one last time, trapping me there.

The door release and he pulled me back into the room, locking the exit behind me. I asked him what he wanted.
“Get on your knees and beg.”
I did as I was told.
“Tell me how much you don't deserve me.”
I did as I was told.
“Suck my cock, fucking bitch.”
I asked him if I could please have my things, if we could please have a nice night.
“You're going to try and leave as soon as I give them back.”
I reassured him that I would stay. That I loved him and wanted to enjoy the evening together.

As he turned to get my belongings, I subtly position myself closer to the other door. The moment he placed them in my hand, I sprinted with everything in me outside, across the alleyway, and into my apartment. My room was in the basement, so no one heard me enter.
No one heard him enter.

How could I fail the deadbolt the door? I crawled into my bed and pulled the covers to my chin, trying to disappear into the darkness. As I saw a silhouette looming in the doorway, still in nothing but his boxers, I told myself, “You're going to die tonight.” I held my breath as he slowly, painfully slowly, walked toward me. Every hair on my body stood up as he gingerly pulled the cover from me. Every muscle tense as he lay down next to me, wrapping his arms around me in a way that reminded me what he could do, if he wanted.

He was whispering, but I could feel him screaming.
“You can never leave me,” he hissed into my ear.
“I know,” I confessed
”Tell me you love me forever,” he demanded.
“I'll love you forever,” I lied
He fell asleep. I didn't close my eyes all night.

After that, it was a waiting game. I was alone. He had already told everybody I was crazy, and everybody believed him. Honestly, maybe I was. I don't know how I couldn't be. The same friends who had wiped the blood from my knees when he pushed me down, the same friends who asked me why I was always covered in bruises —they were gone now. I was afraid to go to the police because everyone would say that I was just trying to ruin his life.

So, I waited, I waited, and I graduated, and then I was free.