I knew as soon as I seen his face that he was pissed. For me that only ever meant one thing: pain. I watched as his features turned from anger to blinding rage. His eyes snapping from my suitcase up to my swollen tear-filled gaze.

My insides went ice cold. “Where do you think you are going?” Aggressively he began striding towards me. I never saw it coming I did not even get a word out before his hand shot out wrapping around my throat with so much force, I instantly felt faint.

Not again! My insides were screaming at me to move, fight back, anything. I wanted to listen but physically my body felt paralyzed. I was in shock; however, I could not tell you why this was a normal part of my life shock should not have been in the equation.

“Didn’t I tell you that you would never leave me alive?” tears spilled down my checks my vision blurry now. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. The pressure around my throat tightened as he dragged me by my throat across the living room to the bedroom door. Thrown across the room my back hitting the rail of the bed. My hands instinctively going for my throat. “You want to leave me? Bitch I made you. You aren’t fucking going anywhere.” His hands went for his belt yanking it off I felt a surge of anger come over me. It was humiliating enough that I was too weak to hold him back from beating me but something inside of me was down right enraged that this man I once loved, that once treated me like his everything was going to… to… violate me in such a way. I had given him everything. I had been the perfect spouse. I had been loyal despite the treatment I had received from him over the past three years. I had stood by this man.

“I-.” My throat was raw and sore as I pushed myself up to my feet trying to get out words. “I-am-leaving!” With each word I stood straighter and felt pride in myself for finally standing up.

He swung at me. His fist barely missed my jaw as I shifted on the back of my heals. “Fuckin’ bitch. Who the fuck do you think you are?” He swung again this time catching me in the ribs. I doubled over coughing and wheezing for air.

Using my shoulder ramming him in the gut I pushed with all my might until I felt his back hit the dresser his head flying back and shattering the mirror that was sitting on top of it. The momentum even though it worked also sent me sprawled on the floor again. His foot kicked out and I felt and heard the sickening crack of my nose as it made contact. I screamed out the pain unbearable though familiar. He kept kicking and deep inside I felt as though I had already lost the battle. It was over. I was going to die. A rib cracked and I realized I could not breathe. I felt my hand slide over something spare. Opening my eyes as much as I could force myself, I saw a shard of the broken mirror laying beside me.

He was getting cocky now. Grabbing my hair, he spit in my face before slapping me. “I’m going to fuck you like the stupid slut you are before I kill you.” I knew if I did not act, I would be dead. I grabbed the shard its edges slicing my fingers, but I was numb to it. Using all the energy and strength I had left I forced it up and through his jugular. Blood spurted everywhere as I pulled it back out plunging it one more time into his throat. His body fell backwards on to the blood-soaked bedroom floor his hands attempting to apply pressure to the wounds, but I knew looking over at him that it was an invalid attempt. A part of me, a large part of me found a sick pleasure in knowing he was dying. My nightmare would finally be over. I was free. I never knew how naive I was, but I soon would see how wrong I was.