text: TRIGGER WARNING: This story mentions physical violence, mild substance abuse, and profanity. Watching the time pass by keeps me sane. It helps me cope. It keeps the days, and thankfully the nights silent. I remember when my mother used to use her time to see other men, who only saw her as a sex object. Tip toeing past my door, in an attempt to sneak into her room as if they were stealing food from the fridge late at night. Noises of pleasure beating the wall until it bleeds white powder from its foundation. Waking the world, my world, from its peaceful state of silence. My father used to waste his money on cigarettes and booze. He would bathe in his own tears. Walking around as if he was the victim of his mental abuse. Of his physical abuse. Painting my mother’s face in different colors. Black circles were painted on rainy days. Purple bruises stroked across the arms and neck on stormy nights. Dripping red blood, stained on the ripped shirt and busted lip of the canvas. I was fourteen when my parents first decided on divorcing. Fifteen, when they made it official. On my sixteenth birthday, neither one of my parents said happy birthday. Seventeen was the age where they stopped acknowledging me altogether. Lucky number eighteen, was there ‘I love you’ mute button. Three days before my twentieth birthday, my father died. Five days after my twenty-second birthday, my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. Fighting to save her life for two years, but gave up after the third. Seven months later, I met my boyfriend. Andy. The love of my life. My drug. He’d make me happy when I covered my cries. Taking me away from the world that was beating me down. Our time together was perfect. Until someone changed him. In times when he should’ve been making me smile, he was the one making me cry. He eventually became the world that was beating me down. But every time I left him, he'd apologize and I would run right back. Andy was a drug lord and at first I wanted nothing to do with it, but then my new friend cocaine came along. Followed by my best friend heroine. They were my rock. My safe haven for when I'm in need of saving. And there was a time they filled my body with happiness so great, my heart stopped for only 4.7 seconds. A new record. His little business in Chicago ended after one of his junkie friends overdosed on his supply. He says that it was so traumatizing, it would be best for him to move in. With me. His failed business got so bad I had to buy a gun just to protect myself whenever I came home from work. There was a time when I worked at a medical clinic. One of the biggest businesses in the world. I was clocking out after a shift, when I realized that I had forgotten my keys at my desk. I didn't have time to wait for the elevator, so I ran up three flights of stairs. I hated those stairs with a passion. It always made me feel as though someone was watching me, lurking in the shadows of the corners I ran past. I had finally grabbed my keys and then stopped. I don't know why, but my body told me to stop and listen. So I did. There was no sound. I was stupid to ignore it because as I placed my heel back down on the hard, white tile, another step that wasn't my own followed. I breathed in. But someone else breathed out. It was a longer and heavier breath. I could almost feel it from where I was standing. My body began to tremble. My knees began to buckle, but my mind told me to run without looking back. Don't look back. Don't look back. Don't look back . I ran to the stairs. 1 minute. New record. I kept running, and I kept listening. As my steps echoed, that person behind me had ran two steps closer. But I finally made it out of the building before they could grab me. I heard a thud but I was smart enough not to turn around. I ran all the way home in less than ten minutes. New record . I turned off the lights of my house, just in case they followed me. As I peeked out the window, I heard the door knob shake. “Marlee?” It was Andy. He was supposed to be with his family on vacation. “Andy? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in Chicago with your family?” I stood up and opened the door to let him in. “Flight got canceled. I have to leave tomorrow afternoon for the next one.” He sat down at the dining room table. “After I heard about it, I just came straight home to see you. Didn’t take any stops because I was honestly too tired.” He asked what happened and I told him someone had chased me after my shift from work. “WHAT?! Who was it?” He stood up with rage igniting in his eyes. “Andy, sit down. They are long gone by now. Nothing to worry about.” I grabbed his hand and guided him back down to his chair, but he winced at my touch. “Oh, I’m sorry. What happened?” I asked. “Nothing. I’m tired. I'm going to bed”. He got up to leave but I grabbed his wrist this time, so that I wouldn't hurt him. I turned his hand over. I was confused. “What happened?” His palm was scraped up. and bleeding. I ran to get the first aid kit. When I came back, Andy was just sitting there. As if someone casted a spell that made him paralyzed. “Give me your hand. Honey, what happened?” “Well nothing really. Some lady dropped her wallet and as I was running to give it to her, I tripped and my hand broke my fall. It's just a little scratch, no biggie.” He shrugged. I dabbed alcohol on his wound and he wouldn’t stop flinching so I decided to give up on cleaning it, and just chose to dress it. “Was this at the airport?” I asked. “No, it was over on Kinley street. By the bakery. Uh, what was its name? Oh right, Charlie’s Cookie Factory. Such a corny name.” He giggled. He looked up at me. I was staring at him. “I thought you said you didn’t take any stops. Why would you be on Kinley street?” I stopped wrapping the wound, and was now in a staring contest with him. “That doesn’t matter. Are you done?” He asked with a serious look on his face. “Yes it does matter. Why would you be on Kinley street Andy? Why would you be on the same street, my job is located?” I asked, becoming frustrated. He snatched his hand away and stared deep into my eyes. I could feel them burning with irritation. “I said that doesn’t matter, Marlee. Now stop asking questions, and let's just go to bed huh?” I stood there, silent. Waiting for something to happen. Waiting for time to start again but it wouldn’t. I couldn’t move. It wouldn't let me. He wouldn’t let me. But I provoked him, and you should never provoke a liar. “You were with that bitch weren’t you? Your new girlfriend. I fucking knew you were still seeing her. I’m done with you! GO TO HELL!-” He slapped me and the air left my throat. So I said again: “Go to hell.” And spit on him. Andy grabbed me by my arm and pulled me so hard, I lost my balance and slammed my knee into the ground. He then grabbed my clothes as I was fighting back, and dragged me into the spare bedroom and beat me. Just like how my father beat my mother. But this time, there was no storm. It was quiet. No sound. No thunder, lightning, no rain. Nothing. Just the wind’s calm tune as it walks through the leaves of the bushes in the neighborhood. After he finished painting his masterpiece, he walked out and locked the door. I sat on the bed. Silently sobbing. I would never let him hear my pain. Never will I ever let him know that he is in control. I didn’t sleep because everytime I closed my eyes, I saw his. His scary, green eyes staring at my soul. I hate the feeling of its burn. So I just stared at the clock. The clock, yes the clock, watching the time tick away. Tik. Tears. Tok. Sniffles. Tik. Silence. Tok. A year went by since that night and it was Andy's birthday. I picked up a couple extra shifts to earn enough money for a new watch he had been eyeing since I met him. But every time I left the house for a late night shift, it seemed that someone else came in. 09:23. The clock read. It was three hours before his birthday so I decided to go home early to change into something more romantic, as I planned on taking Andy out at twelve. 10:12. I finally got home and walked to my porch. Step by step, my smile grew. Excited to make my love the happiest man on earth. Forgetting every somber memory of us from the last three years. 10:22. I hear giggling coming from our bedroom,and as I open the door my heart falls down to my ass. Andy. The love of my life. My drug. Sitting next to a woman. A beautiful woman. The type of woman, to be with another woman’s man. Andy. The love of my life. Our time is precious. Why waste it? 10:45. Silence. For forty-seven seconds. New record. Stares. Tik. Sniffles. Tok. “Leave.” I say to the beautiful woman in my bed. With my man. “Andy, honey? Who is this?” Andy. “Leave.” I say once again. “Marlee? Why are you here? I thought you were working late tonight.” Said Andy shaking. “Honey, why are you shaking?” Said the beautiful woman becoming a little nervous. 11:26. Step. Tick. Fear. Tok. Step. Tick. Begging. Tok. “Marlee don't.” Said Andy rising from his spot on the bed, leaving a rip in the sheets from holding on too tightly. “Don’t what baby?”I said, lifting the heavy, new pistol from its resting place. “Take another step and I'll shoot your toe off.” 11:34. The man in bed with the beautiful woman. Perfect. I've been wanting to end this nightmare, the minute he let me take the fall for his second business. His second business. Number two. Lucky. Number. Two. He got caught selling dope in an alley. He had asked me to hide them in my purse. Of course I told him no. The cops searched him. Clean. They searched me. Clean. They searched his car. Clean. His bag. Clean. Our house. Clean. Everything was clean. My purse. Purse. The purse. My purse wasn't clean. Thrown to the ground. Screams of pain from my lungs rang in his ears like the church bells that everyone loved to listen to. From a distance. Four years. Four long, time consuming years. Taken from my life. Twenty-nine years old. Finally being released from prison. All thanks to good behavior. Isn't that amazing? 11:56. Aim. Tik. “Leave.” Tok. No movement. I slowly move my fingers down to the trigger. Breathe in. Tik. Bang. Tok. Breathe out. Tik. Breathe in. Tok. Breathe out. Tik. Relief. Tok. “MARLEE! NO!” Screamed the man, trembling over the blood painted body of the beautiful woman. I was surprised at how he hadn’t lunged to hurt me like he would before, but i guess he knew he fucked up in the end and accepted what came next. “Barely breathing. Just how I like it.” I giggled. 12:00. “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear Andy. Happy birthday. To. You.” I sang. A hush fell over the room... and then I heard it. Tik. Tok. Tik. Tok. BANG! Tik. Tok. Tik. Tok.