"And she takes another step
Slowly she opens the door
Check that he is sleeping
Pick up all the broken glass and furniture on the floor
Been up half the night screaming now it's time to get away
Pack up the kids in the car
Another bruise to try and hide
Another alibi to write...

"Another ditch in the road
You keep moving
Another stop sign
You keep moving on
And the years go by so fast
Wonder how I ever made it through...

"And there are children to think of
Baby's asleep in the backseat
Wonder how they'll ever make it through this living nightmare
But the mind is an amazing thing
Full of candy dreams and new toys and another cheap hotel
Two beds and a coffee machine
But there are groceries to buy
And she knows she'll have to go home...

"Another ditch in the road
You keep moving
Another stop sign
You keep moving on
And the years go by so fast
Wonder how I ever made it through...

"Another bruise to try and hide
Another alibi to write
Another lonely highway in the black of night
But there's hope in the darkness
You know you're going to make it...

"Another ditch in the road
Keep moving
Another stop sign
You keep moving on
And the years go by so fast
Silent fortress built to last Wonder how I ever made it..."

Maria felt like every bone in her body was broken. If only she could reach the phone. He'd prepared for that though, thought ahead like he always did. The phone had been yanked out, and she had been subsequently beaten with it. She couldn't remember blacking out, but then again, she never could. She did know that she hadn't cried. And that was her small victory.

Peter wasn't everything he had promised. Along with the expensive dinners and flowers, he had given words of inspiration, motivated her to start rebuilding her life over after Michael. Michael...god she missed him on mornings like this. Michael would never have touched her with malice. Ever. But Peter wasn't Michael. It hadn't taken her too long to catch onto that.

Was it the fourth or fifth date when he'd first hit her? She couldn't remember, they had become a blur after that. It was ironic that she, Hurricane DeLuca was a victim of domestic violence. Especially after all the nights she'd lain awake with Michael after one of his nightmares, consoling him, holding onto his shaking body in the darkness. Now she really knew how the nightmares felt. Life experience. Nothing better to sympathize with.

Why didn't she run, flee him? Maria wasn't sure. Maybe she was too tired to run anymore. She' d run as far as she could, and it hadn't gotten her zip. She thought of Michael all the time, wished he could help her out of this one. Knowing all the while that only she could get out of it.

Peter was handsome. He was moderately rich, and a little older than her. He worked in a high class job as a lawyer, probably helping people get out of the very situation he had put her in. Peter promised that one day he'd marry her, and that had been the clincher. They might have a future. Obviously he'd seen her desire for marriage and commitment and used it against her-over and over.

Maria sometimes fantasized that Michael found out about what Peter did to her, and what Michael would do to little lawyer Peter. Probably a loaded shotgun. She'd been tempted with that one herself. Somehow the thought of her abuser with his brains splattered against his own expensive flowery wallpaper was delightful.

She looked at the clock. 8.35. Too early to get up yet. After all, no woman of Peter's was going to work, so she might as well stay in bed a little while longer. She craved to call Liz, to tell her everything, but he'd threatened to have the phones tapped and frankly Maria wouldn't have put it past him. The only way to call her would be from a pay phone, and that seemed like too much effort today when all her bones hurt.

She supposed she should have a look at the damage from last night, and struggled to push herself up. God she hurt. The person looking back at her from the mirror on the wall couldn't possibly be her. Not Maria DeLuca. That person had two black eyes that makeup, not even her heavy duty stuff, couldn't hide. Her neck almost had hand prints on it, from his little strangulation game that she hated. She hated all his games, especially the ones ending in sex. Sex had never been viler than with Peter. Not that she had much experience, just Michael, but he had cared about her, and their sex had been about that. Not little sicko games and then a rousing 2 minutes of rough and tumble that were named sex for the sake of it.

God, she hated herself. She hated the person she had become since she left Michael.

"If this is some sick joke God, some lamo joke to show that me and Space-butt are soul mates, then you're doing your job. I mean, you got me convinced. But Cupid must be one sick puppy to put me here." She had started to talk to God a lot lately. Her mom had always been Catholic, and Maria had never been to church, never been religious. Until now. All her strength came from thoughts of Michael and God. It was almost laughable how chuffed Spaceboy would be if he heard her put him and God in the same sentence!

Maria took another look in the mirror. She revolted herself. How could she of all people get stuck here? She was Teflon. Not this. With that thought clearly imbedded in her brain she decided that today she was going to the nearest payphone to call Liz. She needed to talk.

The makeup didn't cover anything, just as she'd suspected. This had to be the worst it had ever been. Just putting clothes on top of her bruised and broken body was agony. But she had to make it to that pay phone. She had to tell Liz what was happening. No more stupid pride getting in the way.

The ten minute walk down to the park would have been pleasant if she wasn't so conscious of everyone watching her, muttering under their breaths about the marks on her face. So Michael's fears had gone unfounded after all-he wasn't the poster child for domestic abuse-she was. But she was no longer a child...and she could help herself.

Seeing the phone was like a mirage in a desert. It was her lifeline, her last desperate grasp at life...and it was only thirty meters away. Reaching it, she let out a loud sigh of relief, instantly regretting it due to the pain in her chest. The bastard had probably broken a rib or two. Dialing the number her hands shook, but her fingers were so used to jumping over those buttons that it didn't matter. She was gonna talk to Lizzy.

"Hello, Liz Parker speaking." Maria could feel her whole body relax.

"Liz...it's..."

"Ria!!! Chica, where have you been?" She laughed despite the ache in her ribs. This was what she missed.

"Lizzy, I need help. Please." She heard the silence on the other end, and then a voice in the background, obviously the quietly spoken Max.

"Max can come and get you today. He's on his way if you want him to be."

"I don't know if I'm leaving. I just need to talk to someone."

"Ok...well, he's coming anyway. Are you gonna be ok until he gets there?" Maria could sense the fear in her best friend's voice, the panic just shining through the composure.

"Can you tell him to hurry. He has to get here before five...that's when Peter gets home." Maria knew she'd laid it all out with that sentence. It was Peter she was scared of, needed to be rescued from. She shuddered just thinking about what would happen if she got caught. A tag on her toe most likely.

She heard a deep breath on the line. "Maria…god, how?" She could feel the tears prickling her eyes.

"I don't know Lizzy...but I need help. Please."

"Max is already in the car, Chica. It'll only be a couple of hours-are you gonna be ok?"

"Yeah...Liz, I don't know how to thank you. I just don't know why..."

"Shhh, we'll talk about this later. Just go home and get ready, ok?" She replaced the phone in its cradle and began the walk home. Everything was gonna be ok as long as Max was on his way. He always knew how to sort things out. Max was gonna be her savior. She couldn't help wishing that Michael was on his way too, but she knew that wasn't possible.

Maria got home safely, shut the door behind her. She didn't know whether to pack up all her things, or bake a cake or what. She wasn't sure if she could leave, if she was strong enough for that. It was gonna be too hard to go home to Roswell, too many memories. But which was worse? Having her heart broken every time she walked into the Crashdown and he was there, or having her bones broken every night she stayed at Peter's?

The minutes went by like hours as she sat in the dimly-lit lounge waiting for Max to turn up. Panic welled in her throat as the clock read one'oclock and then two'oclock...but then she heard the familiar hum of the Volvo Max and Liz shared. It took everything she had to not to run out the door and give him a huge bear hug...but it would have literally hurt too much. She waited patiently until he reached the door, and then opened it, her eyes focusing on the ground rather than her friends face.

"Maria...god, what the hell has he done to you?" Max's arms went around her, comforting her tears that she didn't even realize she was crying. She was so ashamed of the bruises, the marks covering her…but Max's arms made it seem alright. She felt like such a child. "Maria, you can't stay here. I won't leave you behind." His brown eyes, so like Michael's looked into hers with concern. She knew he wouldn't.

"I don't think...I'm not strong enough..." He shook his head vehemently.

"You don't need to be strong. We'll be your strength, ok? Just show me where your clothes are, and we'll pack." She nodded submissively. He made it too easy for her to agree, and the thought of another night like the last one was too much.

Maria took him to the bedroom, saw his disgust at the blood on the sheets. Her blood, from a head wound Peter had inflicted the night before. Seeing that blood gave her a little fire, a little strength. He would never be able to hurt her like that again. Ever. They worked quickly, throwing most of her things into the same suitcase she'd had the day she left Michael. When they finished, everything was put into the boot of the Volvo and Max hopped in the car.

"I wont be a sec Max. There's just something I gotta do." Maria made her way back to the house, picking up the pad and pen that sat by the phone. She scrawled a note and taped it to the fridge, re-reading it quickly. She nodded. This was over. No more Peter and his head games. She turned on her heel and walked out the door into the sunshine. It was the first time in seven months that she'd actually stopped and felt the warmth on her face. It felt good.

"Peter,

I'm not going to hide the bruises anymore. Because there wont be another bruise from your hands on my body ever again. I wonder if I'll ever make it...but without you I sure have a better chance.

Maria."

Continued next page...

Back to Mr Raddish's Desk