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Disclaimer: i don't write short stories very often. i find it really had to fit everything into them. but tonight i wrote a little piece that i would like to share. All characters are mine. Please don't take it.

Reviews are always welcome.

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The Doctor came back tonight. My heart was overjoyed to see him. I didn’t think I would ever see him again but there he was, tall, dark, handsome in the fading sunset. He smiled, it was a worried smile but a smile none the less and I think I smiled back; I hope I did. I wanted to.

What made him return? It was so ugly, my terrible past rearing its ugly head and him...that man I will never escape or will I? Can I ever dare to hope such a wonderful hope as to be free? He finds me and I leave. I run away and I hide from the horrors it revives and the pains he causes. How does he find me all the time. I don’t understand and yet there he was plain as day and as dark and sinister as night. I hate the night. It frightens me, even now as my youth fades. I am becoming and old woman far before my time. The bright lights of my life have gone out with my fear. I was once beautiful and amazing and here I am now a trembling creature, too afraid of what I may find. I run, I’ll have to run, he’s found me here. But I love this place. There is peace here and love. How could I ever think to love again? But it is so easy here.

It is so beautiful here. I can hear the ocean on the shore and the moon sparkles like a dream. The smells of the salt in the air tickles my nose and the sweet smell of the wild flowers that creep through the field is hypnotic. They dance in the sea breeze. The sea tankers come to port and the merriment of the sailors is catching. It is a beautiful place, so free and easy and unchanged by the world. How could you not love this place. But I must leave it. My little house, my career, my life. I have to change again. What will I do now?

The Doctor looks at me with eyes that shine as blue as the sea. I am in love with those eyes. They are the most beautiful, honest, kind eyes I have ever seen. I never thought I would look at a man like this again. If only he knew I must leave him. How could I bare it? Would it break his heart? It will break my own, but I must. There is no place for me now. I am found and this dream must end.

He was here, the doctor saw it all, well most of it. How he found me I will never know. But his cold hands touched me and I knew at once that I was lost to him once more. He struck me with a forced I has pushed back into the secret recesses of my mind. I wanted to forget that pain, those hands, the force, but I could not. He struck me repeatedly before the doctor came in. He yelled things, terrible things, things from our past. Everything became known to the doctor; all of my flaws, my faults, the weakness of my person. I sobbed on the floor at the mercy of the man that I once loved. My blood runs warm down my face and my eyes are blurred by a pain. He has done it again. I once loved him and he hurt me. He took from me everything that I once held as sacred to my heart. I was beautiful then, I am not now.

My voice was clear as crystal and I was good at what I did. He told me he would take me places, make me a star, and I believed him. I was young and full of hope. He paraded me around like a trophy and I was happy and so much in love. He made money off of my talents and I saw very little of it. I captivated the hearts of many and he caged mine. And then he hit me with such a force that he shattered every dream I ever had.

The Doctor is quiet and collected tonight. He looks at me with pity and he thinks a lot before he speaks. It isn’t because he thinks me simple, I am not, I am a very bright woman working every hard under his guidance I work at night toward a degree that he believes I may have. That one day I should be his equal. I didn’t believe him at first but he has shown me that I am smart and that some day I may save lives. But tonight my self esteem has faded. I am the weakling once more and he sees that I have digressed from all of his praise. I know the struggle is written all over my face. The mirror doesn’t lie. He is concerned. He wants me to go to the police but I can’t. I am to afraid. Fear has got me paralyzed.

The moon is rising. A beautiful silvery moon. As large and as romantic as the moon should be. Queen over her realm and changer of the tides. Oh how I wish I could be the moon. What a wonderful thought. As mysterious as the moon light and as secretive as the dawn. She represents everything I could be. It is in the doctors eyes. Nothing is more beautiful as the moon, she twinkles in the heavens and the starts are the bells that echo her greatness. If you listen closely enough you can hear them singing to her. He looks at the moon like he looks at me. His hope is so visible but his concern is to dark tonight to let the moonlight shine on us.

I don’t want to leave this life. I am happy here and yet there is danger now. Where should I go? What should I do? I’ve changed my name twice now and moved from one job to the next and here I am doing well but I cannot stay. I am so close to my new goals. It always happens this way. I find happiness and he finds me and then I start at nothing and he goes on tour.

The Doctor is pleading with me now. He asks who the man was. I tell him he was my pianist, a beautiful pianist with a way about him that would make even the silent keys sing. He found me in university and brought me through my studies. He toured with me across the country as I sang works by the masters, Mozart, Bach and Beethoven. We were a good team and very sought after but things went wrong when I grew tired and my health began to fail. It was too much, too fast for my little frame and he would not stand for it. It was then that the music left my soul and I became a slave to the art. I haven’t sung since, it is not in me anymore. He has stolen it and stamped it out.

It was then that I started running. He nearly killed me once. I can still feel his hands around my neck. I can hear his voice in my ears and I can feel the tension in my chest. My heart beats louder and louder in my ears and soon there is darkness. I wake night after night still feeling that terror. The doctor holds me until I have passed out of my fits. My nightmares are a mystery to my dear Doctor. And so I ran. Hiding in places he would never go. Little towns and villages, leaving behind me anything that I ever owned. I really had nothing but the cloths on my back when I left. Will I have to leave all this too?

There are tears in the Doctor’s eyes. I’ve never seen a man cry before but this man is. I beg him to stop as I begin and he begs me to go to the police. Could I do it if he came with him? Would he protect me from all harm? Can I even dare to hope or think of putting my trust in a man again? But the Doctor is so gentle. He helps people. He saves their lives. I sit at a computer and I book his appointments. By night I study and he pushes me through the tests, the terms and the tension. I am brilliant he tells me. One day I will walk the great halls beside him and I will be his equal. They will be happy with my work and I will make them well. One day...maybe. Do I dare hope?

He is here. I see him in the moonlight and he walks with a purpose. His hands are balled into fists as he shouts into the darkness that I am his property and that I will pay for making him a poor man. Can it be that he has not found another fool to exploit. There is rage in his voice again. The Doctor shouts to call the police. I am petrified with horror as he comes nearer and nearer, yelling all the time at the Doctor. He is going to hurt him. I have to do something. I run.

There is a crash. My hands shake. The window of my door shatters and I grab the phone. I dial the number but I cannot speak. I scream. There are hands on me; strong terrible hands. I pray, ‘Please god if this must be the end please let me not suffer long’.

The Doctor is bent over me. There is blood on his shirt and red and blue lights flash from somewhere beyond my sight but I can see it in the windows. “He is gone”, the doctor says as he placed a hand beneath my head and lifts me up, “does it hurt when I do this?” he asks as he touches my arms, my legs, my back and my head. I tell him it does not. A gentle but worried smile crosses his broken lips. “You are safe now,” he says, but am I really?

Yes, it is true, I am safe and I will stay. It was hard but he was punished and I am well. There is still a fear in my heart that I cannot push aside but I have hope that I will never have to feel that way again. He cannot come near me anymore. I am safe and I am at home.

The Doctor looks at me with loving eyes. I have sung for him. I haven’t sung in years but I have decided to try. The tones of my voice floated on the sea air and mixed with the piano that the Doctor played. A secret shared. The doctor plays when he is not saving lives. He is a gentle man and I safe with him. I am his equal now, in more ways then one. We are happy and there is hope in our little world.

I have such a hard time writing in the tense you used, major props for that. I liked it, I think it's very good.