She ran her fingers over the bruises and marks left by his powerful, ruling hands. When her soft fingers came into contact with the tender patches of skin, Isabella drew in a sharp breath.

As she thought about what he said to her (“Baby, I still love you, but if anyone asks, tell them we’re fine. Please baby.” She hated the way he could beg.” She started sobbing. Isabella knew she couldn't stay any longer, but she didn't know how to leave. Nathan had threatened to kill her and then himself if she ever left him.

Consistently the idea of “don’t ask, don’t tell” ran through her mind. Even if someone did ask, she couldn't tell, make up a lie on the spot. She must stay quiet, stay quiet, and stay quiet. The more she stared at the dark-purple hand shaped marks on her skin, she saw scars from a time she tried to forget. When she and Nathan first started dating, she had been clean for about a month. It had been a little over a year at this point.

After the abuse started, she jokingly thought that she didn't need to go back to that. The pain he gave her was more than enough. At least, it was in the start. She ran her fingers over the light pink faded scars. Flashbacks of similar times ran through her mind. Her uncle, her father, her brother. They all betrayed her. They turned her into an “adult” before she was ready. Isabella’s innocence could never be returned. Thinking back to the way they all touched her, it made her sick. When she tried to tell someone, they told her to stop making things up. That they would never do anything like that. Her eyes started swelling up with tears once more.

A door slammed shut. Isabella jumped and rushed to get dressed. Loud, heavy footsteps moved their way clumsily through the house. Her heart rate quickened, as did her breathing. Just a second after her blouse was able to hang loosely off her chest, the door to the bedroom flew open.

Nathan had all the qualities of a bulldog. He was gruff, short and stout, but strong. His nose was pushed into his face, nearly flat. Eyes had never been a duller brown, or so squinted just by looking in a regularly lit room. But through all of this, he was loyal. As hard as it was to imagine, this was a big reason as to why Isabella stayed.

Although Isabella’s friends knew nothing about what happened behind closed doors, they did not know why she still stayed with him. The few times they had bet him he was rude, sexist, and just an utter pig. Isabella was beautifully average. Her light blue eyes had a certain sparkle to them, and her always perfect, never smudged make-up, complimented them perfectly. The shade of her long black hair was comparable to Snow White’s, although it was almost always tied up into a bun or slick ponytail. She was known as the good girl; she never drank or did drugs, her shirts were never too low cut and her skirts too short. Even if you had never spoken before, Isabella would smile and say “hi” to you in the hallways at school. But what made her the most beautiful was her passion of helping others. There was something comforting to Isabella knowing that she could impact someone’s life and help them even if she couldn't help herself.


Nathan was drunk. She could smell it on him. “Give me some love, baby,” he mumbled. Although Isabella was currently revolted by him, she knew what would happen if she didn't give into his desires. Reluctantly, she walked over to him and offered her lips. However, Nathan wanted more than a simple kiss, and that’s what she was afraid of. He grunted and pushed her down on the bed. Isabella landed with a thud. Nathan pinned her arms down to prevent any struggle or refusal. It’ll all be over soon, she told herself. He’s doing this because he loves me. Don’t fight back. We’re fine. She kept repeating these phrases to herself to give her something else to think about besides the criminal act happening on top of her.

He loved her.

And they were fine.