So sorry for the delay, guys. This chapter is dedicated to OceanBlue722 for voting and commenting. Thank you again, it means a lot.
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I wake up, my vision blurry and my head foggy. Everything hurts. My leg is flaming and it feels like my side is imploding on itself, my head is throbbing. I try to prop myself up on my elbows to see the extent of my injuries but a searing pain cuts through me, forcing me to lay back down, a cry of pain escaping my lips.

          I turn my head so I can glance around to see where I am. The bathroom. In the corner farthest from the door, to be exact. But I'm close to the sink, and the cupboard under it. The one with the giant first-aid kit. My arm reaches out towards it. I can't reach. It hurts to move, to breathe even. I hear the muffled sounds of the TV, most likely on some sports channel, and drunken laughter.

My arms falls back to the ground, my eyes feeling heavy. Sleep descends on me.

~~~~~ ~~~~~~ A Few Hours Later... ~~~~~ ~~~~~~

I wake up again. My head still foggy, throat thick from sleep, limbs locked from sleeping in such an awkward position. I slowly try to sit up, remembering last time. I manage to prop myself up on my elbows. There's a pool of blood centered around my leg, a smaller one by where my head was. I wince at the sight. I carefully lower myself and inch towards the cabinet, one agonizing inch at a time. When I reach it, I pull out the med-kit and set it next to me.

I rearrange myself so I'm half slumped against the cabinet. I open the med-kit and pull out some gauze, band-aids, rubbing alcohol, and other essentials. I set them next the me, wary of the blood. I pull my leg up so its against my chest. I grab the rubbing alcohol and mentally brace myself for what I have to do next. I hold the bottle over the cut, already feeling the pain. I slowly tip the bottle over. I try not to scream, it's like my leg is on fire; the flesh melting away until all that's left is blackened bone.

I make sure that every inch of the gash has been covered with the alcohol before I stop. I turn my head away, gagging at the sight of my leg. I grab the gauze and blindly wrap it around the cut, knowing it needs stitches but not having the needle, thread, and courage to do it here, not the money to go to a hospital. It'll leave a scar, but what's one more? Not like it'll make much difference.

Once the gauze is wrapped tightly around my leg, I hold it in place with one of those metal clip things. I grab some cotton balls and douse them in the alcohol, rubbing it basically all over my body. Only this time it doesn't burn, just tingles and stings a bit.

          I finish rubbing the alcohol over my cuts and set the cotton balls aside. I prepare myself to look at my side, the part the hurts the most. I cautiously turn my head towards my side, freezing when I see it. There's a bruise. A bruise. All of this pain over a bruise. I think, 'how can a bruise hurt so much?' Then I think of how it could be my ribs, maybe one is cracked or worse - broken. I wince at the thought of how much that would cost to fix.

          Then I freeze for a totally different reason. I only now realize it's quiet. Too quiet. No snores, drunken laughter, or muffled TV. That means.... I'm alone. If he's not here then this is my chance to escape. I've state for too long, hoping that he would turn back to the way he used to be, the way he was when we first started dating. But last night was the final straw. I'm done with him.

          I painfully pull myself to my feet. I stumble over to the sink. I pull aside the mirror to reveal the cabinet behind it. I pull out some Advil. I twist open the cap and dump a couple pills into my shaky hand. I fill the glass by the sink with water and put my hand to my lips, causing the pills to tumble in. I immediately take a big swig of water, struggling to swallow the pills. I manage, after a minute of trying not to spit them out.

          I close the cabinet and turn around, stumbling to the dresser. I grab the first hoodie I see, a dark grey one. I pull it over my head, wincing at the pain that shoots through my side at the motion. I also put on a pair of loose, comfy, black jeggings. I also pull a light gray beanie over my head, hiding the blood seeping from a cut on the back of my head. (Picture above)

Suddenly this sense of urgency passes through me. Like I need to hurry, like I have only so much time left. I shake it off and adjust my clothes, trying to hide the bruises, cuts, and bandages scattered over my body. To hide the blood escaping from multiple places. To hide my pain. My suffering.

I stumble towards the front door, my vision a bit blurry, from the painkillers or my bleeding head, I don't know. I reach down and grab the first pair of shoes I see, a pair of white converse. They'll get stained and ruined, but what does it matter at this point? I'm in a hurry. I don't have time to worry about shoes. Once they're both on, I head outside. My hand reaches out to grasp the railing, the cool metal shocking my skin, sending a shiver through my body. My left arm instinctively wraps around my side, gently cradling my injured ribs. I carefully go down the stairs. Slow enough to (probably) not trip, but fast enough that I'm making progress.

I guess the meds have kicked in. I'm not in too much pain. I still am- it's just nothing compared to the pain I felt just a few short minutes ago. The image of my leg passes through my mind and my gag reflex kicks up, forcing me to pull my hand to my side to cover my mouth. My pace also slows a little at my actions. 'No, No, No! You need to get out of here!' My subconscious screams at me, urging me to hurry up. I speed up my pace a bit, to put as much distance between me and that.... Place, as I can.

I reach the bottom of the stairs, nearly tripping over the ground (go me). I stop, realizing that I don't know where I'm going. 'Away,' My subconscious says bitterly. 'Far, far away.'

I point my arm in a random direction. I shrug and start to head off that way. Not knowing where I'm going, but not really caring as long as it gets me away from him. I walk a bit faster, starting to jog, ignoring the pain that shoots through me at doing so. That sense of urgency is still here, I thought it would go away once I left the apartment.

Then suddenly, my leg explodes with pain . I'm forced to slow down, and stop. 'Painkillers wore off,' I think. I need to sit, to rest for a moment. I walk forward, towards this wall. I don't know where I am, but I can't walk any more right now. I sit on the ground, leaning my back against it. I leave my legs sprawled out.

My head droops towards my chest as everything goes black.

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          Hey guys! I updated. Shocking, I know. And again, I'm sorry.
          If you wanna have a chapter dedicated to you then just comment and vote on this story, leave some feedback. It gives me inspiration to write. So go do that, please. *gives puppy dog eyes* pretty please.
        Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. See you guys in the next part. (Will be up very soon, I've already finished it. Comment if you want me to post it today) Have fun. Adios Guys! (Goodbye Guys!)