Behind Closed Doors

Chapter 8

So here be chapter 8!!

I've now switched it to Kansas's POV, even though I've been having fun writing from Braxton's POV.  He's just so....angry! LOL

Please.....vote and comment!

Enjoy!!!

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Kansas POV

CRACK!  Braxton hits me with the back of his hand.  My face snaps to the left, hitting the wall.  The stinging sensation is instant.  He grabs my chin, making me look at him.  “Don’t ever hit me again,” he says menacingly.  I’m so scared right now that I start crying immediately.  He pushes me back against the wall, making me hit my head.  OUCH!  It hurts so much!  A small shriek escapes my mouth and I begin crying louder.  His green eyes become dark…he’s so angry.  “Shut it!” he says sharply.  Not knowing what else to do, I just shake my head.

He narrows his eyes at me, seeing his rage written all over his face. “I said SHUT IT!” he hollers at me.  I see him raise his right hand.  I cower, knowing what’s coming.  CRACK! He makes contact with the left side of my face.  I fall into the wall and slide down, until I’m sitting on the kitchen floor.  Once on the floor, I start crying uncontrollably.  My entire head hurts.  I can feel a bump starting to form on the back of my head, from when it hit the wall.  The only thing running through my mind is…Again!  He hit me again!  I can still feel him standing there.  I flinch away as he reaches down, touching my shoulder.  “Don’t fucking touch me!” I scream.  “Get out!”  He continues standing there for what feels like forever and then I hear his footsteps as he leaves the kitchen.

I continue crying which eventually turns into heavy sobs.  Braxton comes back into the kitchen, but this time he doesn’t attempt to touch me.  He leaves the room quickly.  I hear the front door shut, telling me that he’s left the house.  After a few minutes, I slowly regain my composure and push myself up off the floor.  I grab onto the table top for support as I stand up.  I can feel a warm liquid on my lip running down the side of my chin.  I reach my hand up to the corner of my lip, touching the liquid gently.  I cringe a little because it’s tender.  When I pull my hand back, I see blood on my fingertips.  Oh my god!  He made me bleed. 

I shuffle out of the kitchen towards the bathroom.  When I’m in there, I look in the mirror.  I gasp loudly.  I don’t even recognize myself.  My eyes are red from crying.  There’s a red mark on my right and left cheek from where Braxton hit me.  I turn my head more to the right, noticing a bruise on the side of my forehead starting to form from where my head hit the wall.  What I notice the most is the blood trickling down from the corner of my lip.  I look horrible!  One might think that I had gotten mugged on my way home from work.  But it’s quite the opposite.  My own husband did this to me…

The tears start running down my face again, mixing with the blood.  What has my marriage become?  Why is my husband becoming so violent?  Is it something I don’t do...or maybe I did?  The tears have become silent and are falling faster, staining my shirt.  After the tears stop, I grab a washcloth, running it under warm water.  I take the washcloth and start dabbing at the dried blood on my lip.  Once I have it all wiped off, I look away from the mirror.  I can’t stand to keep looking at myself.  It’s too painful.  I turn the light off as I walk out of the bathroom.  I walk to the kitchen to get an ice pack for my face and the back of my head.  I open the freezer, pulling out an ice pack.  Grabbing a clean dishtowel out of the drawer, I head into our bedroom.