I screamed. He threw a plate at my face and blood trickled down my chest. I ran into the kitchen, trying to escape. He grabbed me and slung me into the wall. I hit my head and everything became a blur. I yelled in pain and grabbed the closest thing I could reach and threw it at him. A shoe. It hit him in the the eye and I had managed to escape from his grip. He groaned in fury. I grabbed the bottle of beer that he had clumsily left on the kitchen table and threw it at him with every force I had. It was enough. He hit the floor and was out. I opened the door and ran. I knew what I had to do. I knew it had to be now. It wasn't long before I could hear the footsteps daunting my thoughts, my mind was going crazy, fear was lurking inside of me. I screamed as he grabbed me, natural instincts got me kicking at the monster behind the mask, but he threw me against the wall. I knew what he was going to do to me, it's been the same for 2 weeks, as if yesterday was repeating itself.