Warning: This story deals with domestic violence and the struggles to recover from the abuse. If you have problems with this issue please don't read this.

Disclaimer: Ms Meyers owns Twilight and all its characters.

Big thanks to my Beta's Taloolah, dizzygirl28 and Beate73. You girls are awesome, I appreciate all the work you do for me, helping me make my stuff presentable. Love you guys.

Thanks to my prereader tjbaby101 for your input, you rock.

This fic will be updated weekly, unless something goes wrong lol... this first chapter is small, but following chapters will be larger.

Okay on with the story.

Over

EPOV

The sound of the door slamming shut alerted me to the fact that I wasn't alone anymore. Fear coursed through my system as the footsteps echoed down the hall, leading to our bedroom. The smell of alcohol and aftershave permeated from him; the scent was definitely not his. I knew what would happen if I opened my mouth, so I gritted my teeth, trying to resist the urge to say a word as he walked into the room.

Words bubbled in my chest and rose without my consent, "You were with him again. Why bother coming back? It's obvious you don't want to be here." I knew it was coming seconds before I felt the impact. The force of the blow sent my body slamming into the dresser and I slid down to the floor.

Thoughts of past performances danced through my mind as I rose to my feet and took another beating from the man who claimed to love me; the many broken bones and bruises inflicted upon me on other occasions playing like a movie in front of me. As my lover said the words he always repeated whenever he hit me, I knew that this beating would be worse than the rest.

"Don't you dare question me! I own you; you are mine to do with as I please!" The words spilled from his mouth like venom as his fist connected with my stomach.

My body crumpled to the floor again, and I could feel the blackness coming for me. I welcomed it; the faster it came the quicker the pain would end. Why did I let this happen to myself? I could spend hours giving all the excuses in the world, but in the end it didn't matter.

His foot connected with my face once, causing my head to snap back, and my hands flew up to protect my head. That's when I felt blows to my unprotected torso; one, two, three. My breath rushed harshly out of me as grunts of pain escaped along with the air.

He wasn't always like this. Deep down I knew he loved me, but no matter what I told myself, nothing justified what was happening to me. I was cut off, alone. My parents died long before I met him, and my friends all drifted away as he slowly, but surely, took control of my life, of me.

I felt myself being lifted gently in his arms as he lay down beside me, pulling me up to his chest to cradle me, his hands brushing lovingly through my hair.

"I'm sorry baby, you know I love you. Why do you make me do these things?" They were the last words I heard as I finally sank into the deep blackness of unconsciousness.

Shooting pain coursed through my body causing the sudden shift into consciousness. My body was screaming at me, and I knew that the damage done this time was more extensive than ever before. I coughed, blood filling my hand, and I shifted slightly, wincing as my body protested the move. My surroundings became clear; my head was resting on his chest, his arm wrapped around me in what could be perceived as a protective position, but I knew better. This was possessive, keeping me locked to him. My head shifted to see the clock on the bedside table; five in the morning. I had been unconscious for two hours, that couldn't be good. Noticing our position on the floor, I glanced up at his face. His lips were parted slightly, a light snore leaving his mouth with every exhale.

Determination coursed through my system as the words 'get out' echoed through my head. I knew I needed to leave him; I knew it was time. All the love I once carried for this man was gone; it left me completely after last night, his words of love causing my system to involuntarily retch. All I had was the secret stash of money I kept hidden from him and a few articles of clothing. One small suitcase would contain my life, all twenty two years of it. I had nowhere to go, no one to turn to, but that mattered little to me at this point; anywhere was better than here. Carefully, I slid out of his grasp, holding still every time he grunted or moved. It took me four attempts to finally make it to my feet. Blood surrounded me, I was covered in it, but my determination grew. I packed my belongings as quickly and quietly as possible.

A small smile tugged at my lips as I held my head high and walked out the door without a backward glance. Pain rocketed through my system, but the adrenaline of what I was doing made it possible for me to keep going. I hailed a cab, climbed inside and made my way to begin my new life.

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