Only six years old and now dead because of me. He will never grow up. Never get his first car, never graduate. Never fall in love.
Adam and I were only together for three months before he started to get possessive. I couldn’t even wave at another guy without him threatening me. There were even a few times he hit me. Knowing I deserved better, I finally broke things off, telling him to never speak to me again. After seeing me with Kane a week later, in his usual fit of rage, Adam threatened to murder my entire family. But I never thought he would ever actually do it. He threatened all kinds of crazy things over the time we were together, and he’s never acted on them. I just thought he was delusional and crazy.
“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!” I scream over and over before the sting of his hand burns across my cheek. My head snaps to the side, and then I feel the hard grip of his fingers digging into my chin, forcing me to look at him.
“Baby, why’d you have to go and say that? Huh? I don’t want to hurt you, but you make me so goddamn angry when you speak to me like that.” He shakes his head and spits in my face.
I kick him as hard as I can, jerking my face from his grip, and begin to back away, trying to think of a way around him.
“You’re going to pay for that, Hads!” He reaches behind him, and I catch the glint of light catching off a knife as he pulls it from his back pocket. I scramble backwards, slipping in a pool of my mom’s blood and landing with a thud.
Adam steps closer and looms above me, dangling the knife in his hand. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be, Hads. I didn’t want it to go this way, but you are being too goddamn difficult. If I can’t have you, no one can.” He spits, face red with anger. “I promise I’ll make this quick.” He steps closer tapping the knife in the palm of his hand with each step he takes.
Heart beating frantically, I scramble back and pull myself up against my mom’s night table reaching behind me for her knitting needles. With my adrenaline pumping, I know the only way out of this is to fight.
With every ounce of strength I can muster, I lunge forward and thrust the needle straight down into his shoulder.
“You fucking bitch!” he roars, letting out a painful groan. Stomping on his foot, I knee him in the groin and take off for the exit. My socked feet slip, and I come down hard on my hands and knees just as Adam gets a hold of my ankle and drags me through the soaking wet carpet. I scream and lash out, foot connecting with his jaw, stunning him just enough I can pull free.
Dashing out the door, I’m just about to the stairs when my head is jerked back so violently I see stars. Adam has a handful of my hair, but I don’t give up. I twist and punch blindly, fighting back and giving myself any chance I can at making it out alive. I connect with something solid before I’m thrown to the floor.
A hard crunch echoes as my head connects with the banister, and for a moment, all I can see is blackness. I kick out and try to stand, but Adam is quicker. Before I can get to my feet, he kicks me with so much force I stumble backwards, my feet sweeping out from under me as I hit stair after stair.
A crumpled heap at the bottom, I try to breathe through the pain, knowing I need to get up and run if I want to survive.
My head throbs and my leg burns, bent at an unnatural angle. I try to scramble backwards, dragging my leg as Adam begins his slow descent down the stairs after me, my heart thumping with every inch he makes.
Tsking, head shaking, he rubs his shoulder where the needle protrudes from it and comes to stand above me. He’s looking at me with so much venom in his eyes I want to cower.
“Please.” I cry and beg. He looks almost sad, and for a moment, I think he might let me go, but then his head moves side to side. “I’m sorry, Hads. I think it has to be this way.”
I try to get up, but my leg protests and something wet and sticky slides into my eyes, mixing with my tears and obstructing my vision.
“Get away from me!” I scream, pure terror coursing through my veins.
With his dark hair hanging over his eyes and his body covered in blood, he looks so menacing and not at all like the boy I fell for only six months ago.
Before I know what’s happening, my body is jerked upright and I feel the sharp sting of a blade as it plunges into my stomach. Gasping and eyes wide, I look down and watch as the knife is pulled from my skin leaving a trail of fire in its wake. A gargled scream leaves my throat before I feel the tearing of my skin once more as it’s pushed through my flesh for a second time. I try to kick and fight, but my body is on fire with each new strike of the blade.
With only one good leg, it’s no use, and dark spots begin to dance behind my lids.
I might be screaming, but I’m in so much pain I can’t tell if it’s real or all just in my head. I try to count the plunges of the knife but quickly lose count after five. My body feels like it’s burning alive, and with one last cry, I will the darkness to take me.
10 Years Later
As I’m busy stocking the display case with scones, muffins, bars, and cookies, the soft chime of the door has me glancing up. My best friend and business partner, Sarah, enters the bakery, her heels clicking across the hard floor as she comes to stand next to me.
“Good morning!” she singsongs.
“Morning!” I finish stocking the case and face my friend.
With her long, straight red hair, big blue eyes, fair complexion and long lean legs, Sarah is a stunning woman. Today she’s wearing a tight black tank tucked inside a bright-pink skirt that comes to a stop near her calves, paired with nude heels. Compared to my skinny jeans, sneakers, and purple blouse, she looks like she just stepped out of a fashion magazine.
Sarah and I met in our first year of college when we were assigned as roommates, and despite our different personalities, we hit it off right away and have been inseparable ever since. I was closed off and shy, while Sarah was outgoing and wild. She helped crack my shell and pulled me out of depression, andbecause of her, I was able to find happiness during a really dark period of my life. She has become more like a sister to me than a friend, so after graduation I followed her to her small hometown of Lavender Falls, British Columbia, where her grandparents raised her.
Ever since moving to town, we dreamed of opening our own little bakery and coffee house, so when a property on Main Street came up for sale a little over a year ago, we got a loan and made our dream come true. Lemon and Lavender is our pride and joy, and we put so much love into her.
The outside of the building is painted a soft shade of lavender with a big, beautiful flower bed outside the storefront window. We sit right on the corner of Main Street and have a beautiful view of the town centre across from us. The inside is a clean white with tones of purple, yellow, and gold accents. Our counter is a darker shade of purple with a gold display case, and behind us sits an array of stunning gold espresso and coffee machines. It’s elegant and classy.
