I made a mistake when I started dating Derek. And another when I allowed him to convince me that everything that was happening between us was normal. And I continue to make mistakes. I see proof of this again in the mirror: my lips are broken, there are bruises on my neck, there is emptiness in my eyes. For a year now I have not been able to get out of the suffocating web of our relationship. He either orders food for me from my favorite restaurant, or makes me stand on the porch in the freezing rain, locking the door. With him, I never know what will happen in the next minute: it’s like I’m walking through a minefield or a rotten bridge. It's like I'm playing Russian roulette. It’s like I’m drinking vitamins from a bottle in which one of the capsules is cyanide. However, there is someone who returns my sense of balance: the courier who brings us food. He is a random person about whom I know practically nothing. Sometimes we talk on the doorstep. Yesterday he asked if I was okay and it shook me to the core. If Derek is pure cyanide, then what if there is a human antidote?