"The floor seemed wonderfully
solid. It was comforting to
know I had fallen
and
could
fall
no
further."
                 ~ Sylvia Plath

January 18, 2022

I woke up reeking of death.

In my dreams, I was free. Everything was in my reach and I wasn't hurting anymore. In my dream, I could feel it. I was bleeding, but the pain was euphoric. Death was so close.

And then I woke up.

Everything was the same. Noah was sleeping peacefully next to me, his arm slung around me, possessive and suffocating.

The air was chilly. I removed myself from his grip and stared at the wall. I frowned when I saw that there was a speck of dried blood on it, from when Noah had smashed my head on the wall. It was during our third year anniversary. I had to get that cleaned. I had to get that cleaned. I had to get that cleaned.

But I sat on the bed for some more time, simply staring. For hours or mere minutes, I didn't know. Time was an unfamiliar concept now. Nothing was solid, nothing was grounding. My past, present and future merged and writhed and warped together and everything was so hazy and chaotic. My head hurt just thinking about it.

When I looked at Noah, the pressure in my chest grew. It grew and grew and grew, till I was nothing but a void, an endless abyss. It's that feeling you get when you are done crying a river, that numbing emptiness spreading everywhere and no matter how much you try, it refuses to leave. You're not sad, you're not angry. You are empty. And that's just so much worse.

He looked just the same as he did when I first saw him. Or maybe he didn't. I didn't know. I didn't know anything except that gnawing emptiness in my chest.

"I love you," I found myself whispering. As soon as those words left my mouth, I felt filthy and cheap. Like a liar, a thief, a low-life. Because I didn't know what love was, did I? I knew what passion meant. I knew what pain and guilt felt like. I knew what gratitude and shame was. But love? I didn't know what that meant and maybe I never did. And even if I did know, it wasn't enough.

It was never enough for him.

I closed my eyes and willed myself to stand.

A wave of dizziness hit me as soon as my foot touched the ground. I couldn't even bring myself to groan. Too tiring. Everything was so fucking tiring.

I grabbed my brush and squirted some paste on it. I brushed my teeth robotically, staring at my reflection. Green smoke filled up my empty chest and I finally felt something: hatred.

Lifeless eyes, hollowed out cheeks and protuding bones. I shouldn't be alive. And yet here I was, looking at myself with hatred so acidic that it burnt my insides, doing something that I didn't want to do.

I should've died that day. That seizure should've killed me. But it didn't. 'Its a miracle that she's alive,' the doctor had said. But I wasn't surprised all that much. I was used to it by that time. Dancing on the line between life and death wasn't new to me.

He cried so much when I was in the hospital. And he yelled and he hit me when I got home. Then he said he loved me and kissed my tears away, said he needed me. He knew how to kill me and rip me back to life again. So of course I didn't die. He would never let anything like that happen to me.

I stepped inside the bathtub.

Slather, rinse, cry. Slather, rinse, wash.

My phone pinged with a notification. Mom's and Elena's name glowed in the darkness of the bathroom. It has been 6 months since I last talked to mom. I couldn't remember the last time I talked to Elena.

Slather, rinse, wash and die, die, die.

I was certain that Elena hated me. How could she not? I had shoved the weight of my pain on her shoulders when she didn't even finish growing up. I stole her carefree smiles and replaced them with racing thoughts and a messy brain.

Promise me. Promise me you'll leave him.

I didn't. I couldn't. He loved me. He needed me. Or did he? All the reasons disappeared from my head. Why did I love him? Why did I stay? Why didn't I leave? I didn't know. But I did know that I couldn't leave.

I had lied to her after that. I had told her that everything was alright and all I told her about him hitting me was a lie. That I was delirious and didn't know what I was thinking when I told her that. That he loved me and cared for me like no other and wouldn't hit me even in his dreams.

But I think she always knew when I was lying.

I slipped on a dress and wrote a quick note to Noah that I was leaving to get groceries.
***

The supermarket was surprisingly empty.

I pushed my trolley with difficulty and picked a box of cereal. There was a kid tugging on his mother's sleeve in front of me, watching me with wide eyes.

"Mommy? Why does that lady have-" the kid scrunched his face in concentration and jumped when he found the right word,"ouchies all over her face?"

My hand went to my face. I forgot to apply concealer. Shit.

The familiar feeling of anxiety settled over me. I felt myself sway slightly. I needed to throw up. I needed to find a bathroom. I needed to-

The mother of the child sneaked a glance at me and promptly shushed him,"Quiet, Ben! You don't say things like that to people."

I gripped my cart tighter and walked away, almost slamming on a shelf.

"But mom!" I heard the boy whine. I didn't turn back.

I had been falling for a long, long time. But at that moment, at that very second, I knew that I had hit rock bottom. I knew it because I could feel my body falling to the ground, my lungs failing to breathe and the impact of the fall rattling my bones. Every thought that I chose to ignore came down on me, a hurricane of stones and glass shards tearing my skin open.

He doesn't love me. He abuses me. I have no one. I am all alone.

I slid down to the floor, holding my head. No one was there in the aisle. No one to give me company except my thoughts and rugged breathing.

I am fucking terrified. I don't know what to do. I need to get away.

My hands were freezing. I couldn't cry in the middle of a supermarket. I had to get up.

My body refused to obey my commands.

He may kill me one day. I need to leave. I need to leave.

A hesitant hand pried my fingers away from my face. I flinched, my lips parted in a silent scream.

The boy looked alarmed by my sudden movement. He looked back, as if checking for his mother and stepped towards me. His hand was outstretched and his face careful. He looked like he was approaching a terrified animal,"Hey."

I just stared at him, confused. My heart was going thump, thump, thump in my chest.

He stuffed his hand in his pocket and frowned,"Are you okay?"

I bit my lip. How fucking pathetic. An eight year old looking kid was checking up on me, a so-called adult, losing her shit in a supermarket. Pathetic.

"No," my voice was hoarse and scratchy,"No, I'm not okay."

The words felt strangely liberating. I wanted to scream it out to the world till everyone knew it. I'm not okay. I'm not okay.

I'm not okay. I don't love him.

The boy's frown deepened. He took something out of his pocket and slowly stretched his fist to me, like he was asking permission to come closer. I nodded shakily.

He kneeled in front of me and wiped my tears away. I winced, feeling my heart beating on my cheek. His hand was so soft. It made me want to cry all over again.

"Here," his voice dropped as he opened his fist,"I got this for you with my pocket money."

In his tiny little palm, there was a orange candy and a bandage. I felt myself smile through my tears.

That simple action made my cheeks ache. I didn't remember the last time I smiled.

He hits me. I don't love him. I don't love him. I don't love him.

"Ben! Ben, where are you?"

Ben's eyes widened at his mother's voice. His next words came out rushed,"Uh... I once scrapped my knee when I got into a fight with this mean guy in my class. Mom washed my wounds and put a bandage on it. She also gave me this candy. It'll hurt, but you'll be fine. You'll be okay."

I wanted to saw thank you. But I couldn't fine the words. So I just nodded mutely.

"Coming, mom!" he yelled back and turned to me.

At the last minute, he blurted out,"Can I give you a hug? My mom always gives me a hug when I'm sad."

I almost wailed. I nodded, smiling wider.

He threw his arms around my neck,"It'll be okay. Take care!"

I let out a laugh, but it sounded strangled,"Thanks."

And then he was sprinting away from me to his mom in a lightning speed. I could vaguely hear his mom scolding him.

I need to leave him.

All my life, I've never known what it meant to stay grounded. I knew what it felt like to fly and I knew the pain of falling, but I had never known the solidity of the ground under my feet.

I stood up and pushed the trolley to the cashier.

I was bloodied, bruised and dirty. I was torn, battered and tired. But I was there. I had fallen. I could feel the ground under my feet and for the first time in my life, I felt grounded.

I am Abby Davis and I am alive. I am alive.

My hands were shaking with excitement as I carried the groceries out of the store. I threw my phone away in the nearest trash can. For the first time in forever, I felt the sun on my skin. It felt good. It felt like something I deserved.

There was an idea forming in my head. It was crazy, borderline insane, but I was doing it. It may not work, hell, it definitely wouldn't work, but I didn't care. There was adrenaline rushing through my veins and I felt the fog in my head clear. I knew what I had to do.

I had to get away from him.
***

I bit my inner cheek hard enough to draw blood. The same orange candy which cleared my head now made me nauseous. The flight suddenly felt too small.

I was so stupid. He's going to find out that I tried to leave. He's going to kill me he's going to fucking kill me-

"Mam? Mam are you alright?"

I nodded and closed my eyes,"When are we taking off?"

She gave me an uneasy smile,"We're all ready for take off, mam. Please wear your seatbelt."

Stupid, stupid, so stupid he's going to find out and he's going to hit me so hard that I won't be able to open my eyes for days.

I fastened my seatbelt. I pressed my cold, cold hands to my cheeks and tried to breathe.

"Please switch off your phones and fasten your seatbelts. The flight's about to take off." a voice announced. My heart skipped a beat.

I was certain he would come. He would burst through the doors last minute, lips in a nasty sneer, an accusing finger pointed towards me. And then, in front of everyone, he would hit me.

I swallowed.

But he never came.

The flight took off and I waited. I waited for him to come running and to yell at my face. But he never did. I waited for him till I could see the clouds and the blinding sun, till my 'home' was nothing but a tiny spot in the sea of colours below me.

My heart was going thump, thump, thump and tears were running down my cheeks but I left him. I left him.

The airhostess kept asking me if I'm alright, concern evident in her voice. I laughed through my tears and shook my head. She must think I was out of my mind. But that was alright, because I fucking left him and I've never felt better.

I could feel the ground under my feet. Everything was in my reach, solid and my future was unfolding right in front of my eyes. I was not trapped in a hazy nightmare. I was real and I was alive. It all hurt so much but I was alive. And God, what a glorious day it was to be alive.
***

A/n.

That's it, folks! Whoo, that was one hell of a ride and I hoped you guys enjoyed it❤️ I couldn't have finished writing this without your constant support. To everyone who's reading this: thank you. I adore you with all my heart.

Until next time <3