John Tucker John Tucker
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drop the 'spoke with' and substitute had.

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Desi Mosier Desi Mosier
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She had a friend.

It had been a month since the incident. The bruises were gone but the memory remained. Taunting her, tormenting her every time she closed her eyes. A little movie played in her head when she would lie down to sleep. Only it was like she was watching someone else. Some other woman lying on the floor, beaten and bleeding.

       Mick was always a violent drunk. He would always hit her, but in the morning he would apologize and try to mend things. This time was different though, he had to of have drank one beer too many this time, because he was unable to control himself. Even as she sat bleeding, begging for him to stop, he wouldn’t. When she awoke the morning after, all of Mick’s things were gone. All but a note on the table that read, “Dear Rosie, please forgive me, even if I can’t forgive myself. I can’t bear the thought of hurting you again. So I’ve decided to move out. Goodbye, I will always love you.”

       She sipped her tea, remembering the past month. A month without him, without the abuse. It was eleven at night and an odd time to be drinking tea, but it relaxed her. The only reason she slept the past week had been her insistence on drinking the tea before bed. She jumped as someone loudly knocked on the door, causing the cup in her hand to fall to the floor and shatter.

       “Crap!” Three more knocks came from the door. “Hold on, I’ll be right there.” She hurried over to the door, neglecting the spilled tea and broken cup. Upon opening the door she saw him.

       “Hello, Rosie.” He spoke with a faint smile on his face. 1 comment

       She could smell the alcohol on him. “W-what are you doing here Mick?”

       He pushed past her and into the house. “In case you've forgotten, I still live here.”

       Rosie paused before she closed the door. “B-but you moved out.”

       He began yelling. “Well I’m back! Are you telling me I’m not welcome in my own home?”

       She dropped to her knees afraid he would hit her. When he didn’t she looked up with tear filled eyes. “N-n-n-no, I just-”

       He cut her off. “You just what? Huh?”

       She avoided his eyes and slowly whispered. “I just missed you. I was mad you left me.”

       His eyes grew soft. “Look, I’m sorry about that, and I missed you too. I’m just so sorry, Rosie. I love you, I never meant to hurt you.”

       She stood in amazement as his hands went to his face and he began to cry. Thinking he might be level headed now, she reached deep down for the words she had been too afraid to say before. “I-I love you too,” She paused and he looked at her. “but we aren’t young anymore, and well, sorry just isn’t enough.”

       He removed his hands from his face and stood up. “Not enough? Not enough! I came here to share my feelings, and you say they aren’t enough!” He picked up a mug off of the counter and broke it. He picked up a large shard and ran at her.

       She dropped to the ground cowering. Suddenly, he slipped on something and fell to the ground. She realized the spilled tea. She sat trembling on the floor, staring at his lifeless body as the gash in his head oozed red blood. She lingered there until the morning when she could find the strength to get up and to a phone.

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