<div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000"><u>Warning: </u><br/>
The following Role-play may have triggering scenes or flashbacks containing domestic violence that some may find hard to read. For those of a sensitive nature</span> <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000">you have been warned and advised to skip these scenes.</span></span></span><br/>​</div><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ffffff">Alice slid down the bedroom door as she clutched her right arm, sucking in deep breaths. Blood trickled down her arm from between her trembling fingers. Leaning her head back against the door she tried her damnedest to calm herself down enough to think, feeling the panic and fear rising higher and higher to the point she felt like she was choking. <br/>
</span></span><br/><span style="font-family:Libre Baskerville"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ffffff"><i>BANG!</i><br/>
</span></span><br/><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ffffff">Her short, sharp terror filled cry filled the room as the entire door lurched and vibrated with the impact. Thank god she'd locked the door. But it wouldn't hold for long it never did. <br/>
</span></span><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(255, 255, 255)"><i><span style="font-family:Libre Baskerville">BANG!</span></i></span><br/><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ffffff"><br/>
"Alice! Get your fucking worthless ass out here! So help me God-!" </span></span><br/><br/><span style="font-family:Libre Baskerville"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ffffff"><i>BANG!</i></span></span><br/><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ffffff"><br/>
Knots upon knots constricted her vocal chords, tears streaking down her face as she shook her head furiously. She began sucking in short sharp breaths on the verge of a panic attack, desperately searching the bedroom. If she didn't get out of the house he was going to kill her, and this time she genuinely feared for her life. All of this because William, her husband, was pissed off because of the dinner she'd been making. She'd done something wrong, yet she wasn't clear what yet again. These days she was never sure which way was up and which was down with him. <br/>
<br/>
Earlier he'd snatched the knife from her hand and slammed her back against the counter as he gripped her by the chin. The roar of blood in her ears had made it hard to concentrate on his anger filled rant, only able to offer whimpered apologies. Which only served to piss him off further, then in his anger he'd slashed her arm with the knife. Only then had she ran from him, with William racing after her knife in hand. <br/>
<br/>
Suddenly it went quiet outside the door. <br/>
<br/>
Alice spotted her handbag on the floor next to the bed. Just about controlling her breathing she pushed away from the door, crawling over to her hand bag, digging around for her mobile. <br/>
<br/>
"Ba-abe? Baby cakes?" Came the calm, charming voice from the other side. <br/>
<br/>
She froze, deer in headlights. A chill ran down her spine at that feeling of the calm before the storm. <br/>
<br/>
"Come on baby, open up. I'm sorry about getting angry with you, but you know it's your fault, you know you shouldn't make me so upset." She heard rustling outside the door and then more silence. "Look I'm sorry, it won't happen again, alright. Just open up. You know I love you really, I mean who else is going to right?" Like it was a joke. "Come on let me in to apologise properly. I just want to hold you and make up ok." The compulsion to open the door was so great as the silence stretched on, to the point that after a short while she got to her feet, bag in hand and crept towards the door. <br/>
<br/>
Hand out stretched she had her hand on the door handle when she jumped out of her skin at huge impact that made the door creak and rattle. "Fucking bitch, open up the door, or I'll break it down!" He snapped.<br/>
<br/>
Backing away from the door she knew she couldn't stay in the house, or she would cave into his desires, his wrath. With great haste she grabbed the nearest clothes and essentials and stuffed them into a bag. It was then that she did something she never thought she'd be doing, and climbed out of her own bedroom window to get away from her murderous husband. Thankfully their bedroom was only one floor up, but the impact of hitting the ground still hurt as she landed on the wet grass in their back garden. <br/>
<br/>
She ran round to the car, then remembered she didn't have the keys, </span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(255, 255, 255)">William did. And she wasn't about to risk going back into the house. So she ran down the street late that night, just needing to put as much distance as she could between her and the house. Except she had no idea of where to go. She was too afraid to go to the police because William would come armed with lawyers and more than likely twist her words, pull her into his lies and she'd be back home again. <br/>
<br/>
She couldn't go home, her parents would just call William. She couldn't go to a hotel because William would track her bank transactions with their joint credit card and come get her. Her neighbours were a risk she wasn't willingly to take, nor did she know them that well. And she didn't have any friends left close by who were willing to talk to her anymore. <br/>
<br/>
Her phone began ringing, the I.D coming up with a picture of her and William. He'd obviously kicked down the door. Clutching it in a bone white grip, she fought the ingrained response to answer the phone. The fear was clawing at her, knowing if she didn't answer she'd only make things worse for herself. She rounded a corner and leaned against the fence, a sob racking her as she fought herself. <i>Don't answer, don't answer, don't answer</i>! <br/>
<br/>
She shook as she clicked the green button, but just as a tyrade came from the phone a person knocked into her, knocking the phone from her grip and sending it skidding into the road, where a car nearly ran over it. It was then that she took the opportunity to back away from her mobile. If she picked it up she would only end up going back. <br/>
<br/>
So she walked away. It was only until she noticed a mother shielding her child's eyes that she realised she hadn't bandaged her arm. So she ducked into a corner shop, grabbing some supplies before heading to the counter. She must have looked horrible for the cashier asked, "are you alright miss, you look terrible?" She gave a silent nod, paranoid her husband was going to walk in and grab her any minute. <br/>
<br/>
"Are you sure? You are bleeding... what happened?" she clutched at her arm. <br/>
"I-I'm fine. Thank you," shaking as she dug around for cash to pay the guy as quickly as possible. <br/>
"Are you sure you don't want me to call the poli-?" With that she shoved her cash into the guys hand and snatched her supplies before darting out of the shop. She found a public bathroom to clean herself up and bandage her arm, changing her top to something long sleeved from the stuff she'd grabbed at home, all the while trying to keep it together. <br/>
<br/>
Realising she needed to withdraw cash to save her from using her cards she went to a cash machine. After that she got on a bus to get out of the rain, not wanting to stay in one spot for too long. It was as she was staring out the bus that she saw a comic book store that reminded her of her best friend from child hood. God how she missed him. It was then that she desperately needed to see him, even just for a little bit, needing just to feel a little bit of normal. A light in her darkness. She knew she could trust him and it was the last place her husband would look. Even if it was just for a few hours. <br/>
<br/>
--------------------<br/>
<br/>
It took her a few bus rides, but she finally made it. She just hoped beyond hope that he was still at the same address and hadn't moved in the last five years. The bus stopped a little ways away from the address, forcing her to walk the rest of the distance in the rain. She didn't have an umbrella, as in her haste she had just grabbed whatever and wasn't thinking about anything else besides getting out of the house. <br/>
<br/>
By the time she reached the house she looked... damp to say the least. At least the rain had covered her tears on the walk over. With a sniffle she reached up, hesitant as she stared at the familiar door. It took her a moment but she finally knocked, hoping he still lived at the same address. Taking a deep breath she straightened up getting ready, and plastered on the fakest smile that even a maniquinn would be jealous of, when really in her head she was crying rivers, her soul broken and bleeding. He couldn't know. It was too shameful, too pathetic, too sad and dangerous to let him know about. He may be her best friend, but she didn't want to burden him with such problems. Except she couldn't remember how to be herself, so decided she'd have to act as best as possible. <br/>
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<i>God please let him still live here. </i>She thought as she waited. </span></span>