I was stuck in a dream—a dream I didn’t want to be in. I was back in the old apartment that Brady and I moved into right after we’d gotten married. Not only was I trying to adjust to being a newlywed, but I was also dealing with the fatigue and influx of hormones from my pregnancy. I wasn’t handling it so well, and Brady wasn’t making it any easier. He wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps and become a police chief, so he went to the academy. After he graduated, he tried to get a job at our local police department, but he didn’t make the cut. He worked hard to prove himself, giving it everything he had, but it just wasn’t enough. Since his father was the chief in a neighboring city, he was able to pull a few strings to get him in. Knowing that he hadn’t gotten the job on his own changed something in Brady. He became more determined than ever to make a name for himself, but his lack of patience to earn his way up the ladder, along with a derisive attitude towards some of the guys, made him highly unpopular with his colleagues at the precinct.

He quickly became frustrated and angry, and soon developed a habit of stopping off at the bar on his way home. At first, it was just every now and then. He’d drink a few beers, and then he’d come on home. But over time, it became an everyday thing, and to make matters worse, he wasn’t the best at handling his alcohol. After spending the night drinking, he would come home and either pass out on the recliner or he’d turn into a raging lunatic, cursing and yelling about everything that was wrong in his life. Unfortunately, the latter happened more often, and I was usually the brunt of all the negative things that were going on.

While I wasn’t exactly eager for him to come home that night, I’d fixed dinner and was becoming anxious that he hadn’t responded to any of my texts. It was well after dark, so I finally gave up on him and ate dinner without him. Once I was done, I went to the living room to watch TV. I’d just started to doze off when I heard the front door open, and Brady came stumbling into the kitchen. He clambered and banged around for several moments before he finally slammed the door behind him. I sat up on the sofa when I heard him grumble, “Damn it!”

“Brady?” I stood up and walked over to him. “Are you okay?”

His eyes grew narrow as he glared at me with anger. “Not that you fucking care, but yeah. I’m fine.”

“I do care, Brady,” I told him with sincerity.

“If you cared, you wouldn’t be riding me all the time, especially when I’m busting my ass to keep a goddamn roof over your head.”

“I was just asking if you were okay,” I snapped. “I didn’t realize that was riding you.”

He took a charging step forward as he spat, “Watch your fucking tone, El! I’m not listening to your bullshit tonight.”

Brady had lost his temper many times since we’d moved in together, but I’d never seen him quite so furious. Fearing he might completely lose it, I took a step back. “I’m sorry.”

His face grew red as the vein in his neck started to pulse with rage. Spit flung from his bottom lip as he snarled, “You should be sorry, you lazy fucking whore.”

“Brady,” I mumbled. “You’re drunk.”

In an instant, he charged towards me with his hand hurtling through the air, and my head lashed back as his palm collided against my face. Before I had a chance to react, he reached for my neck, wrapping his fingers tightly around my throat and slammed me against the wall. “Do you have any idea why I go to the bar every night after work?”

I shook my head frantically as I clawed at his hands. I tried my best to break free, but his grip only tightened, making it impossible to get away from him.

“Because instead of living the life I wanted, I have to come home to you. Every goddamn day I have to see your fucking face, and it makes me sick to my damn stomach. You … make … me … SICK!”

The lack of oxygen was making me dizzy, and the room started spinning at my feet. Lights flashed through my eyes, blurring my vision, and my knees became weak. By the time he finally loosened his grip, I was almost unconscious. He gave me a shove, and I lost my footing. I stumbled back, tumbling over one of our kitchen stools, and a thundering bang echoed through the room as it fell to the floor. While I tried to brace myself, there was nothing I could do to stop myself from landing right on top of it. A shooting pain jolted through my side as my gut crashed against the edge of the seat. I cried out, but no sound came from my mouth.

With Brady looming over me, I curled into a ball, wrapping my arms around my stomach in hopes of protecting the baby, but it did little to shield me from his boot as it came crashing into my side. “Now look what you did, you stupid, fucking bitch.”

Tears streamed down my face as I clung to my stomach, pleading, “Please stop, Brady. The baby. You’re gonna hurt the baby.”

It was like someone had flipped a switch, and he suddenly froze. He looked down at me in horror, then knelt beside me. He ran his hand over my head as he mumbled, “Oh, God. What have I done?”

My voice was strained as I told him, “Don’t … touch me.”

“Oh, Ellie. I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You know I didn’t mean it.”

I remained in the fetal position as I demanded, “Get the hell away from me, Brady.”

Reluctantly, he stood up, and after picking up the fallen stool, he walked over to his recliner and sat down. The room fell silent as he sat there staring at me on the floor. I was in agony, and the pain only grew more intense as the adrenaline faded from my body. While I laid there on the cold, hard tiles, I tried to steady my breathing, but the cramping was so intense that I had a hard time keeping myself from passing out. Suddenly, I felt a warm sensation between my legs, letting me know something was terribly wrong. I looked down and saw that my thighs were covered in blood.

“Oh, God. No!” I pleaded.

Using all the strength I could muster, I pulled myself up from the floor, and once I was standing, I looked over to Brady. He was passed out in the recliner, and completely oblivious to what was going on. I knew if there was any chance of me saving my baby, I had to get to the hospital. Knowing I couldn’t count on Brady, I grabbed my keys and hobbled out to my car. With my hand on my stomach, I drove to the ER, sobbing uncontrollably the entire way. In all my life, I’d never felt such pain—not just physically, but mentally as well. Deep down, I knew that I was going to lose the baby, and the thought of losing her, especially like this, broke my heart. By the time I made it to the back door of the hospital, I was covered in blood. I knew I couldn’t walk, so I laid my hand on the horn until one of the orderlies came outside to help me.

With a worried expression, he came rushing over to my window and asked, “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“No. I’m f-five and a half m-months pregnant, and I’m bleeding r-r-really bad. I th-think I may be having a miscarriage,” I stammered from sobbing so hard.

Without hesitation, he opened my car door and took me into his arms, cradling me as he rushed me inside. Moments later, I was on a hospital bed with doctors and nurses hovering over me. I was bombarded with questions that I didn’t know how to answer: “Were you in an accident? Were you attacked? Who did this to you?” I remained silent as they continued to examine me, and my worst fears were confirmed during my ultrasound. I heard the doctor tell the nurse that the trauma to my uterus had caused a placental abruption, and there was nothing they could do to save my daughter. Tears trickled down my cheek as I stared up at the ceiling and tried to make sense of everything that was happening. We had our fair share of arguments, but I never dreamed that Brady could be so violent, so cruel. I loved him, or at least I thought I did, but I knew nothing would ever be the same between us again. He’d killed our unborn child, and I would never be able to forgive him for that.

I could hear the torment in the doctor’s voice when he said, “I’m so sorry.”

“Is she gone?”

“I’m afraid so.” He paused for a minute, and then asked, “Is there anyone we can call for you?”

I looked back towards the ceiling as I answered, “No. There’s no one.”

He placed his hand on my shoulder and gently explained, “Ellie, I’m afraid you’re too far along for a D & C. We’re going to give you medication to help induce labor—”

“W-wait. What are you saying?”

“You’re going to have to deliver the baby. I know it’s going to be difficult for you, especially after whatever you’ve gone through tonight, but it’s our only choice,” he added.

I felt my world come crashing down around me as I was wheeled into the delivery room. While crying hysterically, the nurse put an IV in my arm and started pumping the drugs through my veins. Once she was done, she came over to me and whispered, “I’m here if you need anything.”

The delivery was a complete blur. I barely remember any of it. I was too distraught to take in the moment, but once she was born, my world stood still. I watched as the nurse wrapped her in a little, white blanket and brought her over to me. “Would you like to see her?”

In almost a whisper, I answered, “Yes. Please.”

The nurse placed my daughter in my arms, and as I looked down at her precious little face, at her rosy, little cheeks and button nose, I’d never felt such love for anything in my life. I circled my fingers across her face and over her perfect little lips, then trailed them down her arm to her hand. Her little fingers were so tiny. Everything about her was tiny, so very tiny, and as I brought my hand back up to her little head, she felt warm to the touch, making it difficult for my mind to accept that she was really gone. I lowered my mouth to her ear as I whispered, “I’m so sorry this happened, my sweet girl. You have to know that I would do anything to take it back. I shouldn’t have provoked him. I should’ve protected you. It was my fault. It was all my fault.”

Tears streamed down my face as I kissed her on the forehead, then I nestled her close to my chest and wept. I cried until I had no more tears, and then I cried some more. Losing my daughter broke my heart in a way that I knew it would never be the same again. I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed to wake up from this dream. I couldn’t stand to watch that nurse take my baby from my arms, not again.

I thrashed my head from side to side and forced myself to wake up. When I finally managed to open my eyes, my bad dream was quickly forgotten. I was in my car with my mangled body pressed against the driver’s side door. There was snow trickling through the busted passenger side window, while the others were completely covered in white, making it impossible to see out. I was freezing and could barely feel my fingers as I reached up to touch my throbbing head. My entire forehead was sticky, and my whole face was swollen, including my eyes. Through squinted eyelids, I looked down at my hands and realized they were covered in blood. On further inspection, I saw that it wasn’t just my head that was bleeding. I had cuts and scrapes all over my body. I leaned forward to look in the rearview mirror but stopped when a stabbing pain shot through my ribcage. I laid back against the seat and took a strained breath as I tried to make sense of what was happening.

My teeth were chattering from the cold, and I had no idea where in the hell I was. I was bleeding badly, and the freezing temperatures were only making my situation worse. It was then that I’d wished I had my cellphone, but I’d left it behind. I hadn’t wanted to take any chances, and it wasn’t like there was anyone I could call. Knowing I couldn’t just sit there, I unbuckled my seatbelt and tried to pull myself out of my seat. Every muscle in my body burned in searing pain with every move I made, but I was eventually able to pull my feet up to my side and force myself into a standing position. After taking a few deep breaths, I carefully reached into the backseat for my hat and gloves and put them on. I slid on my coat and zipped it up tight, then started out the broken window. The pain was excruciating as I tried to pull myself up through the window, but by the grace of God, I made it. Once my feet were steady on the ground, I glanced up the hill and gasped when I saw how far the car had fallen. My chest tightened when I looked around and all I could see were trees. I was too far down the ravine to even see the road. Everything was covered in white, making it hard to know which direction I should go, but I needed to get out of there alive; I had no choice but to take a chance and move forward and up.

I walked for hours, and with each step, I grew colder and weaker. My ribs were killing me, making each breath strained and painful, and as much as I wanted to stop and take a break, I knew I couldn’t. The sun had fallen, and I was surrounded in darkness in the thick of the forest with no sign of life around me, completely exhausted and disoriented. My body was trembling, and with the temperature dropping, I knew I would die if I didn’t keep moving. So, I continued my treacherous hike through the forest.

I couldn’t see anything as I trudged through the thick snow as there was no moon. Only one tree after the next. Things were looking bleaker by the minute, and I was about to give up hope when I finally noticed a faint light shining in the distance. Maybe it was a mile away, maybe not. I wasn’t sure if I could even make it that far, but I knew my only chance of survival was getting to that tiny glimmer of light. My legs felt like lead weights as I forced myself to continue forward, and after what seemed like hours, I was close enough to make out a large building with a tall fence wrapped around it. I could hear the faint sound of music and took that as a sign that someone might be inside. By the time I made it to the fence, my clothes were completely covered in ice and blood, and my entire body was numb. Hanging on by a thread, I clung to the fence and tried to keep my eyelids from falling shut. I was running out of time. I could feel myself becoming dizzy and feared I would pass out before I could make it inside. I held onto the fence as I hobbled forward, using it to help me keep my balance, and eventually made my way around.

Once I’d gotten through the gate, I stumbled, tripping over my own feet and collapsed in the snow.