As I lay on the floor looking out the window, I saw the dark gray sky pouring rain. It was the perfect summer storm. Lightning streaked across the sky. I could feel the heat from outside through the screen door. I was sweaty from the humidity in the air. Thunder crashed in the background as he hit me in the face again. I threw my arms over my head, “Please stop.” My heart ached as I screamed in pain, "I want you to love me as much as I love you," and I wept.

Jack laughed in my face, “You are not worthy of anyone loving you, Stella. People would be stupid to love you. You are nothing but a trashy whore. A big waste of time and space. You are lucky that I took you in.”

“Why did you choose to be with me? Did you ever love me? Why am I not good enough? Why do you not want me anymore? What has changed?” I asked, sobbing. I felt all my insecurities at once. There was a time when I believed in myself. I loved myself in the past. That seems like a lifetime ago. 

“You are lazy. You are nothing. How dare you question if I love you. I am always here, aren’t I? Doesn’t that show you that I love you? Isn’t that enough for you?” Jack asked as he lowered his face closer to mine. He grabbed me by the hair to bend my head back, so I looked at his face. His eyes were squinted. Typically beautifully blue, they are barely visible now. I can see on his face how intoxicated he is. His eyes are now bottomless pits of blackness. His eyebrows are scrunched up. 

“You are here, but you don’t want to be. You would rather be in a bar playing single than choosing to be next to me. I have given you everything I have, and it is still not enough. Nothing I have done has ever been enough. I have never been enough. I will never be enough,” I cried while trying to move from beneath him. He held my shoulders down with his hands. His legs were squeezing my hips. It was painful. Every time I attempted to move, he would squeeze harder. 

“Stop crying like a baby. You are pathetic. Always begging for my love. Look at you. This is why I have to go to the bar. There are so many women who adore me. They want me. They don’t question my every action. They let me be me. I can have anyone I want but still come home to you. Home to the jail,” Jack barked while grabbing my hair tighter, tangling it in his hands. 

Jack got out of my face. He began getting off me with my hair still in his hands, moving towards the bedroom and dragging me by the hair. He walked down the hallway, knocking all the pictures of the memories we had made over the years off the wall. Jack snickered as the glass shattered on the floor. He embraced the sound of destruction. It is his friend. It's the only time he feels like himself. It is what he lives for. I could never compete with that. I don’t want to live in the hatred anymore. It drains all of my energy.

When we got to the bedroom, Jack threw me on the bed and checked that the windows were still nailed shut. He nailed them shut right after we were married. He had gone on a drunken bender at the bar. He thought some man was sneaking in them to see me. He turned and looked at me, smiling, “Don’t go anywhere.” He slammed the door and locked me in. I wish he wouldn’t have. It would have been easier to leave. Now, I will have to wait until after he passes out.

I listened as Jack started his truck and peeled out of the driveway like a bat out of hell. I sighed with relief and got up from the bed. I knew he would be too drunk when he returned to notice anything. He has never come home sober from the bar. I grabbed my duffle bag. I rummaged through the room, looking for my most precious family photos. I packed my photo albums and a couple of changes of clothes. I opened the small safe at the bottom of the closet. I pulled out eighty-five thousand pounds. I stuffed that into my bag, too. I sat back on the bed to wait for Jack to return from the bar. 

The reality of what I was doing was starting to seep in. Can I really leave? Can I make it on my own? There are so many doubts. I have lied so often about him so people wouldn’t dislike him. I always thought people were being unfair in their opinions of him. I convinced myself that he wasn’t that bad. I told myself he could change. I told myself he was perfect underneath it all. I believed it would make a difference if I loved him hard enough. The rambling in my head was never-ending. I had to decide. For me to succeed, I must take the proper steps in the right direction.

I remember when we first started seeing each other. It was nothing like in the movies, but at six foot one, Jack was a handsome, charming man. He had dark ebony hair with a clean, shaved beard to match. His eyes were a crystal blue that I dove down deep into. I knew my soul was reaching out to his soul through his eyes. He made me feel like I was the only woman he needed. Our first date was what every girl dreams of. He bought me flowers. He picked out a bracelet for me. He made me laugh. He wooed me in every sense of the word. He never eyed our waitress. It was just us two in our private world.

Jack had the world at his feet. There wasn’t anything he couldn’t do. He had a job as an attorney for rich bastards who believed they were above the law because they had money. He was an expert at getting them out of the consequences of their actions. Now I realize that he is just like them. Jack wanted to live his life as he wanted, free of consequences. It didn’t matter who he hurt in the process. He would burn the world to the ground if it meant he got what he desired. 

I turned to look in the mirror. I long to feel as beautiful as I once did. With my auburn hair down my back again. Jack has not allowed me to have long hair for two years. I was not allowed to wear makeup because he worried someone else might find me attractive. When I wore makeup, he asked who my newly acquired boyfriend was. I hope to feel love for myself one day. I haven’t thought about it for a few years. I feared how Jack would react when I did things to make myself happy. It always turned out wrong. All I see in the mirror now is a worn-out woman. My stardust brown eyes no longer shine brightly like they used to. My hair is shoulder-length. It doesn’t fit my oval-shaped face. There is little weight on my face. I don’t look healthy like I once did.

Laying down on the bed, I jumped when I heard the roar of his truck coming up the drive. It shook me out of my thoughts and back into reality. I hid my duffel bag under the bed and waited for him to enter the house. I started sweating again out of fear. The pain in my stomach was excruciating, and it felt as if my heart would burst from my chest at any moment. 

Jack came into the house, letting the screen door slam. He ran into furniture on his way down the hall to the bedroom. He fumbled with the keys to unlock the bedroom door. I heard the keys hit the floor at least two times before he was able to put them in the slot. Jack came into the bedroom, undressed, and lay down beside me. 

“You still awake, ho?” asked Jack. After I didn’t answer, he rolled away from me, mumbling under his breath. 

I lay there waiting for Jack to pass out from the alcohol he consumed at the bar. I knew he wanted a romp before passing out. He did not deserve it. I stared at the ceiling, not responding to him, silently praying he would start snoring. I did not want to give any more of myself to this man beside me. He has taken enough. 

When I finally heard his snoring, I slightly pressed on the bed to test if he would move. When he didn’t, I gently lifted myself out of bed. I grabbed my duffel bag from under it. I tiptoed down the hall and out the front door. After getting to the street, I started walking to the highway to hitchhike to a man who offered identity services. A person I had reached out to had told me about him. I only hope he can help me. If he can’t I will have to just keep going until I find someone who can I can trust. That won’t be easy. I don’t trust anyone anymore, not because of other people. I don’t know if I can trust my judgment about people. 

I was only a mile up the road when a young woman stopped and asked me if I would like a ride. I felt relieved. I didn’t like worrying it would take me too long to walk, and Jack would catch up to me when he woke up. It would be a few hours, but the anxiety made me want to vomit. I accepted the ride. I gave the woman directions to where I wanted to travel. She stared at me for longer than she probably meant to. I hadn’t tried covering any of my bruises. My hair is a tangled mess. I can imagine how I would appear to a stranger. I glanced at the sideview mirror. My appearance reflects how I feel on the inside; I am completely broken. I could see sympathy in her eyes when I looked back at her. When she turned to face the road, I closed my eyes to nap. 

Pulling up to the motel, the woman asked with a disgusted look on her face, “Are you sure this is where you want to stop? I can probably find something a little nicer for you. We could call you a woman’s shelter and get you some help.”

“Yes, I am sure. I am incredibly grateful for the ride. Please take this for your trouble,” I said as I handed the woman a fifty-pound bill. The woman’s eyes grew large as she looked at me. At this moment, I was glad we had kept all our cash in a safe. Jack was paranoid that the bank would lose the money somehow. He always had irrational phobias. This time, it worked in my favor. 

After getting out of the car, I walked to room 205. I made a fist and lifted my arm to knock on the door. I found the man at the motel like I was told I would. I could tell because when he opened the door, I could see the scar on the left side of his face described to me.

“What do you want?” The man asked as he propped open the door to peer out at me. He was five foot two with dark green eyes and short blonde hair. He looked like an ordinary guy. I knew he wasn’t an ordinary guy. He deals in forged documents. I was told he got a scar on his face from a knife fight. He made documents for another woman. She chickened out, and her husband found them. Her husband cut him telling him to always remember that moment when he interferes with relationships.

“I need a new identity. Our mutual friend said you were the fastest and the best.” I replied while extending my hand with cash out for a handshake. I shivered, half from the chilly night and half from fearing what this man could do to me if he wanted to. At least if he killed me, Jack could no longer hurt me. I am willing to take that risk. Besides, if that woman who brought me here saw me dead on the news, maybe she would tell the police where she dropped me off. Not that it would bring me back. 

The man shakes my hand. He said, opening the door wider, “Our friend wasn’t lying. Come in.”

I walked into the motel room, closing the door, hopefully on my past.