A Visitor

The carpet was soft under my feet

as I stood from my bed.

I wiggled my toes for a moment,

feeling the material give under

my feet.

My bladder reminded me why

I had awoke in the first place.

I slowly made my way around

the bed, using my hand until

my eyes had adjusted.

Carpet turned to wood

with my final step into

the hallway.

Just a few steps until

the bathroom.

Our apartment was small,

But it was ours.

Or so I thought.

A creak caught my attention,

breaking my drowsy trance

and welcoming awareness.

Slowly I peaked into the kitchen.

My heart raced.

It echoed in my ears.

Nothing.

I took a deep breath and

tried to prepare myself

to walk further.

Carefully, I made my way out

into the opening of our kitchen/living

space. I continue my steps.

My steps break into the kitchen.

I’m barely at the counter and yet

already slowly reaching for the knife block.

My fingers finally clasp over one of

the black handles. The blade eases out-

“I wouldn’t do that.”

I freeze.

“Just let it go,” he growled.

“For your own good.”

The blade slid back into place.

Fear held me still.

Completely frozen.

I hear the click of a gun.

I still can’t move.

“Probably best you don’t turn

around, sweetheart.”

A tear tore its way down my cheek.

Still paralyzed.

I could feel his finger on the trigger.

Fly or die….

The bullet barely misses my

Head as I duck and turn.

Diving between him and

our counter.

I hear the click again.

I make it to our room.

He pulls again.

The pain is ice in my back,

hitting my spine.

Flowing

through

my

veins.

I crumple.

In the middle of our bedroom.

In our apartment.

It's his now.