Chapter 5 Eugene is dead?

Emily's POV

“I'm making pizza, and you will get two pieces because you are my favourite,” said a lady whose face was familiar but not memorable.

I looked around me and noticed how the sun brightened the room.

I was standing in the living room, watching the woman bring what she was cooking out of the oven while wearing gloves.

“Mom,” I heard myself say. “You should give me three.” I rushed up to her.

“Why? Have you forgotten about your sister and dad?”

“But look at me. I lost my baby, my body is full of scars, and I've lost everything. I deserve three pieces of pizza, please,” I said to her.

Everything felt too good to be true.

“Emily!”

Another voice caught my attention, so I turned to see who it was. It was my sister walking into the kitchen with my dad.

My dad hugged me tightly and kissed my head before going to my mom while I greeted my sister.

A perfect family.

My perfect family.

“Promise me that we'll all be together,” I said to my sister and then to my parents.

Just when they were about to hug me, everything changed, and my once joyful heart turned sorrowful.

The smell of antiseptic and loneliness again, I thought to myself as I noticed the bed I was lying on.

But the first thing I did was cry because my dream was too far for me to reach, and I couldn't even remember the faces of the people I yearned to have in my life.

To wipe my tears, I lifted my hand, which had an IV clip attached to it, only to see my swollen stomach and the cuts all over my hands.

That was right.

Eugene.

He had hurt me again.

This time, he had gone as far as disfiguring my body with several cuts.

Oh God.

I was living a ruined life.

Was there hope for me ever again?

I knew that after all this, I would be going back to that demon's house.

He would also come to see me soon.

When would I escape?

I desperately wanted to be free, but once again, I wasn't in the afterlife.

I was here in the hospital.

I stayed in the room for a moment, lost in my own world, before a nurse walked in. She checked everything she needed to.

“How do you feel?” she asked.

I just nodded my head.

What hope was there in telling her how I felt?

If I said I was okay, I would be lying, and if I said I wasn't, no one would be willing to help me.

“Alright,” she said and left the room, only for two men to walk in.

“Good evening, ma'am,” one of them said.

I was surprised because the men who entered were policemen.

“Why are you here?” I asked, confused.

What could possibly have caused policemen to come looking for me?

“We are here to gather information about how Mr. Bastien Eugene died,” the other policeman said.

“Eugene is dead?” I removed my gaze from them and looked elsewhere, trying to think. “How?”

“It was reported that it was just the two of you in the apartment at around 9 p.m. The neighbours claimed they heard sounds of a violent struggle, which wasn't the first time.

When everything suddenly became quiet, one of them decided to knock on the door, but after receiving no response, they entered the apartment and found you and your husband lying unconscious on the floor.

To conclude this case, Mrs. Bastien, we need your testimony. Are you fit enough to tell us what happened?”

After his explanation, I remembered everything.

“He was this close to ending my life,” I muttered as every single detail came back to me while the policemen listened.

“He abused me for three years,” I added. “I have... suffered for three years, officer!”

I burst into tears.

“Three years of torture,” I said bitterly, holding my head as though I had a severe headache.

I killed him.

I had finally ended my misery.

They said nothing and allowed me to express myself because no one was ever going to understand how I felt at that moment.

I could finally go out without feeling guilty because men looked at me.

I could eat what I wanted...Pizza.

I could finally dress the way I wanted, sleep peacefully, and breathe like every other human being on this planet.

This was the freedom I had always craved, even if I ended up behind bars.

After that, they began asking me questions, and I answered every one of them.

They also informed me that a lawyer would be assigned to my case.

The biggest evidence I had was the bruises all over my body, and the hospital had records of how many times I had been admitted.

I had more than enough evidence of his abuse.

After the policemen finished questioning me, the doctor entered the room.

He explained that they had examined me and scanned the baby in my womb.

I looked down at my stomach and saw that the bump was still there.

I was surprised because I usually ended up having miscarriages.

“Your baby is healthy, but you aren't,” the doctor said. “That is why we need you to remain in the hospital until you give birth. Our test results show that you may deliver before your due date.”

However, at that point, I didn't care how things would turn out or how everything would work out.

I was just too happy to know that I would never have to see the face of the monster who tortured and ruined me again.

I was finally free.