Abuse

The passport

As I drank from my glass, my engagement ring reflected off it. It stuck out like an eyesore, as though it were a reminder of why I had to wear contact lens. I will be damned if I went through with it. Just then, Funsho my crazy fiance who had almost caused me to lose my sight with a slap walked in.

He held a steady psychotic smile at me. But I was past caring, my passport was ready. I would flee the shores of this country to escape his grasp. No more will I be his caged butterfly.
“Let’s dance!” He commanded. With false gusto I followed.

I had my mind on one place, America, as he reeled me all over the dance floor. A pang sharper than what I was already experiencing jolted me back.
His lips came close to my ear, whiskey oozing from his breath as he whispered mirthlessly, “Have you checked for your passport where you hid it?”

Vera

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