I pull the door open and know instantly that something isn’t right. His eyes are crazy, he’s sweating and his chest is heaving up and down with his increased breaths.

I’ve had moments in my life where I have been scared, but I have never felt like this—like I need to be scared for my life.

I rack my brain for what I could have done to annoy him this much, but I can’t come up with anything.

“Jake, what’s wr—” I don’t get to finish asking my question, because he reaches out his hand and grasps the top of my arm tightly.

“You fucking whore,” he grates out in a really eerie voice.

I’m too shocked by his words to reply. Apparently, this doesn’t please him though.

“YOU FUCKING WHORE,” he repeats—only this time, at the top of his voice.

“I…I haven’t—” my words are cut off as I get pulled harshly towards him.

“You’ve been sharing my pussy with other men, you fucking whore.”

I think about Ewan, the guy Taylor’s been seeing who walked me home after turning up in the same bar earlier tonight. Does Jake really think I brought him home?

“Ugh,” I grunt as my body hits the wall with a thud.

Jake is still shouting, spitting at me with each vile word, but the only thing I can focus on is the blinding pain in my shoulder where it just collided with the brickwork of our hallway.

“Argh…Jake...stop. I haven’t—”

I’m suddenly flying through the air like a rag doll. The pain of my back hitting the stairs is unbelievable, and when my head smacks down on one concrete step I swear I hear a crack before everything goes black for a few seconds. I roll down the last few stairs until I am laid out on the landing. I’m aware that I’m screaming, vaguely aware that my neighbours in the other flats on this floor could hear me and come to my rescue. The second I open my eyes and see him leering down at me, I shut my mouth. I know it’s no good. I’m about to experience the full force that is a drug-filled, alcohol-fuelled, angry Jake.

“Fucking whore,” he says again before he jolts towards me.

I roll onto my side, clutching at my stomach, hoping that I can do something to ease the excruciating pain. It’s all consuming. I’ve never felt anything like it.

I lift my hand when I feel something run down my fingers and sheer panic rushes through me when I see my hand is covered in blood. My blood.

I’m going to die here. Alone and in the hallway of my building.

I’m fading in and out, alternating between the spinning vision of the stairwell in front of me and the blackness that keeps taking over my body. I like the blackness. The pain and the memories of the last few moments disappear when that comes.

When I come to again, a ringing sound gets my attention, and after a few seconds I remember putting my phone in my back pocket before answering the door. I feel a rush of relief as I realise that I might not die here after all.

My arm feels like lead as I try to move it to grab my phone. I’m moving so slow that the ringing stops and my panic starts to set in again. What if I can’t get to it?

Thankfully, the person trying to get hold of me rings again, and it gives me a renewed sense of strength. I try with everything my weakening body has to get to it.

When I eventually pull it in front of my face I’m not even a little surprised to see who it is. He will know something is wrong; he will always be there to help me.

“Lilly, what’s wrong?” Dec shouts down the line when I answer.

“Ambulance,” I whisper.

“What, I can’t hear you.” The panic in his voice is increasing with every word.

I take a moment to find the energy to talk.

“Ambulance. My flat.”

“Fuck, Lilly, what’s happened? Are you okay? FUCK,” he screams into the phone.

“Don’t tell Mum and Dad. Need you,” is the last thing I remember saying before everything goes black again.

I’m suddenly awake, sweating and panting. I push my wet hair off my face and will my heart to slow down. I pat my bed, reminding myself that I’m safe and everything is fine. My hand finds its way to rest on the scar on my stomach and I begin to sob, just like I do every time I wake up this way.

It isn’t just a dream. It’s a nightmare.