One Thousand Miles

Chapter  |  Five Minutes

Part  |  One

The whole reason why I wanted to be free was because I was tired of not being able to make my own decisions and live the life I wanted, but even though I was free now it sure didn't feel like it. This was not the life I wanted to live. I did not want to have to look behind my back every second so see if someone was following and I didn't want to be so paranoid. I wanted to fall asleep knowing that the next day I was going to wake up safely where I fell asleep and not in the backseat of John's car or back at the place I was beaten for the past five years.

As I was on the road driving to who knows where I couldn't stop looking through my rearview mirror for the black BMW behind me, or through the side mirrors for it beside me. I never stopped to eat, I only stopped if Cameron was hungry or I had to change his diaper or if I was low on gas. I was afraid that John would catch up to me and chance at a life filled with decisions by myself would be ripped away from me in just a matter of seconds.

I was tired, but I didn't want to stop. My eyes were drooping and I could feel a slight headache coming on from driving all day. I glanced up at the dashboard for the time and I hummed at how late it was before sucking in my bottom lip. I glanced over at the gas meter and sighed before looking up at the blue sign that was coming up on the side of the road. At the next exit there were a few gas stations and a few motels that I could choose to stay at for the night.

I got off on the ramp when the exit finally came within the next mile and pulled into the nearest gas station, not even checking which was cheaper. I turned the car off and before getting out I lifted up the hood on my sweatshirt to hide my face as best as I could before reaching inside my pocket for some money. Quickly I climbed out of the car and opened the backseat to get Cameron out of his carrier. He whimpered a little but stopped once I cooed into his ear. I rested his head on my shoulder and covered him in his small blue blanket to hide him from the chilly night air. As I made my way towards the entrance of the gas station I kept looking over my shoulder for any suspicious cars or people, but I was the only one parked at the gas station and there were just a few cars driving around.

As I entered through the doors, I little golden bell above the door rang informing the man behind the counter he had a customer. He sat up in the stool he was leaning back in and placed his magazine with the almost naked girl on the front cover down behind him.

"Can I help you?" he asks as he rubs his hand over his stubble. I glanced up at him and almost wished I hadn't because he reminded me so much of John. Dark hair, stubbly face, blue eyes, and muscular arms. That used to be my type, but now? Not so much.

I clear my throat and lightly pat Cameron's head. "Unleaded, pump two," I say before throwing a ten onto the counter.

He continues to eye me for a few more seconds before slowly placing the ten in the register and grabbing my change. I open my hand up and let him dump a few dollars and some change into my hand along with a receipt. "Here you are. You two be safe."

I frown when he doesn't even wait for me to leave the store to return back to his porn magazine. Once outside I place Cameron back inside the car before taking the gas pump and placing it inside the gas tank. I sigh and bounce up and down on my toes as I wait for the tank to fill up. I look around at my surroundings for anything suspicious and bite my lip. It was still only me parked at the gas station and the only car driving around was a silver Bentley.

Once the tank was finally filled up I placed the pump back where it was supposed to be before closing the tank and getting back inside the car. Starting the car back up I look through the rearview mirror at Cameron sleeping in the backseat and smile. I slowly pull out of the gas station parking lot and turn left down a dark road towards a motel.

I promised myself I would get some sleep but every time I tried I just kept remember the things John did to me and the hurtful words he spat in my face over the years. I tried to lay there and fall asleep but my body was so stiff and not once did I blink as I stared up at the ceiling. I was scared to close my eyes, not only because of what I would find in my dreams, but also because of what I would wake up to the next day.

I now sat in a chair with my back hunched over, my elbows resting on my knees, and my hands on my temples. I didn't blink as I stared out the open curtain which revealed the packed motel parking lot and quiet streets. A small smile rose up on my lips at the thought of families on vacation with their family now that their kids were on summer break. Years from now when Cameron was older and maybe had younger siblings this would have been us, but the only difference was John would have us staying in some expensive hotel at the top floor. 

That could be us only if John would have just tried to stop and if only I had just been careful and listened, if I had been a good wife.

No I was a good wife. It was John who was a terrible husband, I did nothing wrong. It was always his fault; he was the only person who made him do the things he did.

"John I'm sorry I---"

"No you're not sorry! You were more worried about seeing your family who you saw just a few days ago when you should have been here with me! It's like you don't love me!" he yells before bringing his hand up and running it through his hair. His eyes widen in fear and shock. "You don't love me. Oh my gosh you don't love me!"

I stare up at him with wide eyes and shake my head. "John that isn't true! You know I love you more than anybody else. You're just dru---"

"No you don't!" he yells before pushing me away. He then backhands causing me to fall to the floor. I cry in out in pain just as a few tears slide down my cheek. I hear him gasp from above me. "Oh god Stephy I'm sorry, but you made me do that. Do you see what you make me do! You make me do that!"

Okay so maybe it was my entire fault after all? Maybe I was the problem? But he was the one who never listened to me or never believed what I said which resulted in him striking me. I was always the one trying to make him happy but all he ever did was spit in my face and bring a smile to my face most of the time.

"Look at yourself!" he yelled as he pushed my head forward just a little. I let out a whimper and slowly let open my eyes to look at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. John had done quite a number on me that was for sure. Blood dripped out of my nose, over my lips, and down to my chin before dropping onto my white button-up shirt. My eye was swollen and bruising and my top lip was swollen so big it almost looked like a cold sore.

"I said look at yourself goddammit! Did I give you permission to close your eyes?" he yells again. I hadn't even realized I had shut my eyes again, so quickly they fluttered back open and examined the damaged done for a second time. "Look at how hideous you look. Normally I have higher standards Steph, but if I were you baby I'd consider myself lucky."

He tightened his grip on my hair and I moaned in pain. "Let go of me!"

He growled out before shoving me down on the cold tiled floor. "I'm getting really tired of you telling me what to do Stephanie. It's getting old." And before I could brace myself he made his fist struck my already damaged face. He continued to throw blow after blow as he called me things like disgusting, ugly, and worthless.

"Tell me you love me," he said once he was finished and stood over me.

I don't remember my response after he said that all those years ago. All I remember is waking up in bed feeling sore and now that I'm thinking about it, maybe just a little bit unloved. John was sitting next to me doing work on his tablet, but as soon as he noticed I was awake he quickly over the side of the bed for an ice pack he must have prepared beforehand. I remember crying as he tried placing it on my swollen lip and I remember him telling me how sorry he was as he kissed almost every tear away.

Subconsciously I brought my hand up to my face and wiped away the tears I hadn't felt before falling down my face. I was on the brink of depression. I was miserable back at home with John but now that I'm finally free it just so hard to be happy. Every time Cameron made a noise that put a smile on my face, but after when I had to turn around and continue looking out for anything or anybody suspicious only made my heart ache even worse. It was sad that I couldn't even stay in New York with my family and friends, it was sad that I had to run away just so I no longer had to be beat and put down all the time.

I just wanted to be happy; I just wanted things to be normal. The closest thing I had to happy and normal was my baby boy sleeping on the motel bed behind me. I turned around and smiled at my son who lay on his back with his arms above his head and his head turned to the side. It was cute, and that was what made me happy. But as soon as I turned around to look out the window again, the ache was back and a frown was on my face. Yes he put a smile on my face and yes he was the only thing that could make me happy, but the question I couldn't stop asking myself was...

Was he enough?

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This will probably be the last update for a while because I start school Thursday :(