Havens and Horizons

a brief look into the life of someone who struggled with a form of abuse as a child and young adult

The key in the lock sticks, so she pulls the door hard towards her, and gives the key a quick, forceful twist.  As the lock pops open and she steps inside, her eyes adjust to the darkness.  The apartment smells like cinnamon, cooking meat and onion, and that strange apartment smell.  It's pleasant, in an odd way.  Nearly how her grandmothers home smells; as opposed the houses she grew up in that smelled of dog s**t and piss and cigarettes.  

Two meows spring from inside the darkness; after the door is closed and she steps from the entry way, she feels first one, then two small furry bodies winding their way around her feet and legs as she makes her way further into the dark room.  Kilo, the bigger of the two, meows plaintively; baby Binx copies her and tries to claw her way up her mothers leg.  Patiently, Lauren removes the smaller cats talons and holds her close while reaching for a light.  After the lamp is on and her eyes have adjusted once more to the dim room; she takes in the beige carpet and couch, the red painting and candle holders with their vanilla candles in place, the dark brown wood on the in-tables and entertainment system, and the large sliding glass doors to the balcony.  

Never has she ever been so content in such quaint surroundings; the peace of knowing this home belonged to her settled in her heart and set her mind at ease.  There was no one to walk on eggshells around, no one to question where she was going, why she was going, or when she'd be back.  All the horrors from the past year have almost melted away.  Most of Lauren's days are now passed with work and school, the nights spend with Ed, drinking and gaming and watching silly nothings on the internet.  How content she is now.  How happy, how peaceful.  

There are still days, however, where she feels that suffocating pressure in her chest, and her heart flutters and fears the smallest issue.  Days that feel like endless dreary nights, that seem to be cloudy and heavy with humidity and rain; there are times when she feels this way that she begs for rain, for the loud, crashing lightening and thunder that she fears so badly.  If it stormed like that, then surely she would have a reason to act so fearful and to crave Ed's affection more than ever.  He doesn't understand, she knows.  And she feels sorry that she acts in such a way.  It's embarrassing for her to express all these worried, and when he simply asks, 

"But, why do you feel that way?"

 She has no answer for him.  The sadness that consumes her during these times is so entirely overwhelming that it takes her breath and nearly knocks her off her feet.  

But today is not one of those days.  Today was a school day, and though Lauren failed her test, she's not feeling defeated.  After a quick visit with her mom, grandmother and siblings, she stopped by the bank to deposit her check for the week and has now arrived in her haven.  This apartment is a haven for her; no one from the outside comes in without her say-so.  The only people who have been in there have been permitted in; even family can be denied.  For Lauren, there is no other feeling as elating as that one.  Liberation.  Liberation from what? Well, she doesn't quite know the words; it's simply a feeling.  But it's liberation from anyone and anything that tried to take her horizon, which she craved so desperately during her younger years.   Oh, how large that horizon was.  And oh, how they tried to take the largest thing in her world and pinch it so small that it could disappear almost completely.  

Today, as she hangs her keys up and kicks her shoes off by the door, she is aware of her triumph.  The smell of the venison in her slow-cooker pulls her to the kitchen to begin to prepare dinner for Ed.  He won't be home til nine, and even though he most likely won't be hungry when he walks in the door, she wants to have food ready.  Cooking makes her feel even more at home; she prepares the beans: rinses them, covers them with water and boils them for two minutes, then lets them simmer, occasionally adding more water to the pot every twenty or so minutes.  While she waits for the beans to cook, Lauren heads to the bedroom.  The black curtains are drawn, but the red wax lamp is on, casting an eerie red glow about the room.  Lauren flicks the switch to the light, quickly strips off her outside clothes, removes her bra and panties.  From there she goes to the restroom and, with a wet cloth, rinses her body of sweat and smells and the stress of the world outside of the apartment.  She brushes her hair almost aggressively. After returning to the bed room, she checks Ed's drawers for a T-shirt.  Clothed in one of his shirts and her PJ shorts, she returns to the living room and turns on the PlayStation to watch Netflix.  Even in early November, the holiday movies are on, so Lauren turns on the Grinch.

Curled up on the couch, both her cats sleeping near by, her love soon to be home, and dinner cooking, she knows, that for once in her life, she controls where things go.  Her contentment has never peaked beyond this point, and she is confident that there is no way that she could ever digress to the broken person she was before.  No one could ever take this happiness from her.  

Author's Note

this is just a quick short story
it was not proofread, though I'm confident that there are no significant spelling errors.
reviews are always welcome, as well as critiques.
taking pointers on form and perhaps some new words.