Short story

It’s too late for me.

It’s too late for me. It’s not too late for you.

He hit me. Hospital again, same nurse, same room, same reason.

They asked me what happened - Again.

"Bumped into the door again."

 I didn't. But it's too late for me.

He’s always there. I cannot escape.

Bruised eyes, fag burns, pinch marks. 

I guess I’ve only got myself to blame.

Cooked the wrong tea - Again.

I keep dreaming one day me and the kids will get away. 

We will finally be happy. 

It's too late for me – It’s not too late for them.

They have their life ahead of them. All I've got is a future of hatred. 

Bang on the head again. Maybe this time they will see beneath the lies.

It could all be over.

Same nurse, same room, same reason.

But this time it is too late for me.

I the kids will be safe now.

Now there mother is looking over them.