I was out chilling with my mates when my phone rang. It was her, and she sounded really messed up, saying she’d hurt herself if I didn’t come back. When I got back, I found her in the bathroom, knives lying there like some horror movie. It freaked me out big time. After that, I felt like I had to stay close, like I was responsible for her. I couldn’t even hang out with my friends without worrying about what might happen when I wasn’t there.

Blades

I was out chilling with my mates when my phone rang.

It was her.

Her voice was shaky, broken, words slurring together. “I can’t do this… I need you… If you don’t come back, I’ll—”

My stomach dropped.

I left without even saying goodbye, sprinting through the streets, my mind racing through every worst-case scenario. What if I was too late? What if she’d already—

I burst through the front door, calling her name. No answer.

Then I saw the bathroom light on.

I pushed the door open and froze.

Knives, lying there on the sink like something out of a horror movie. A bottle tipped over, pills scattered across the floor. She was sitting against the bathtub, her head low, her breathing heavy.

She looked up at me, eyes wide and glassy, and whispered, “You came back.”

It freaked me out big time.

I wanted to be angry, to shake her, to scream What the hell are you doing? But all I could do was kneel beside her, my hands shaking as I checked if she was okay.

After that, everything changed.

I felt like I had to stay close, like I was responsible for her.

I couldn’t even hang out with my friends without worrying about what might happen when I wasn’t there.

What if she called and I didn’t pick up? What if next time, I was too late?

It wasn’t love anymore.

It was fear.

share this story:

More stories

UNSEEN ECHOES - Objects of Domestic Abuse | Photography Project & Exhibition

Every morning there was a cup of tea waiting for me in the kitchen. Always in the same broken cup. I hated that cup, I wanted to smash it, but that would just get me in trouble. She would also leave the teabag and spoon for me to clean up.

She did it to remind me that I was a broken mess and that nobody would want me.

The thought of it still makes me feel sad and lonely.

He would put a chair in the kitchen and make me sit on it. If I refused, he would push me down and tie me to it.

He would make me tell him all the things I had done wrong that day. Then he would hit me for them.

If I couldn’t think of anything, he would call me a liar and lock me in there until I thought of something. I had to think of something even though I knew he was going to hit me.

He would put sleeping powder in my drink. I’d wake up confused, not knowing what happened or where I was. Sometimes, I’d also feel pain, you know, down there. Maybe it was a good thing in a way, because I wouldn’t remember what he did.

But it still left me feeling violated and scared.

I called it my escape fund, tucked away at the back of my wardrobe, hidden behind my clothes. He never bothered to look there.

Any spare change I had went straight into my secret stash.

One day, I’d save up enough to break free, to find my own place away from him.

I always bought a card for my daughter, even though I couldn’t send it. Not knowing where she was, I kept it hidden away. He wouldn’t let me stay in touch with her after my ex took her.

But one day, I’ll find out where she is. Then, I’ll give her all those cards, just to show her I never stopped thinking about her.

He always come with me to shops, never help, just follow me. He make sure I don’t stop to talk to anyone.

After shop, he watch me struggle with bags, tell me hurry up for TV.

It feel like I can’t do anything without him watching.

Blades

More stories

Subscribe To Our Newsletter