He came back. He’s come to wound her again. She quivers in the corner of the minuscule living space; she hopes he will only hit her once today. Perhaps she will get to see the light in the dawn.
His trainer’s squeak, slick across the floor as he treads heavily through the door. She catches a glimpse of a shard of glass gripped loosely in his filthy palms. Her hopes and pleas from earlier where shattered like this tool of torture.
GET OVER HERE NOW! He yells as he stumbles into the room smelling strongly of beer and tobacco. She knows where he’s been and who he’s been with, it’s like her existence is on repeat. Nothing changes and nothing ever stops, it’s going to always be this way. Constant agony and unswerving weeping.
GET UP! He yells once more. She does as she’s told. She feels as if she is in a prison with a life sentence; she has to serve. It’s like he has to devour her pain to survive. She hangs her head, staring at the matted and dirty carpet beneath her cut up feet.
He is unstoppable. She cannot fight back She is too weak, She has tried to hide but the cuts only get deeper, the bruises only get blacker and the pain always reaches new heights.
She can’t tell her family, He forced her to cut all contact for fear of discovering what he truthfully is.
She can’t talk to anybody, she bottles things up and stores them deep down where no one can reach them and hopes that someday she will forget them because she has no other choice.
w-what are y-you goin-n-ng to do that hasn’t already b-been done? She murmurs in a voice as weak as her stomach.
And he strikes her head.
Once.
Twice.
Then Blackness engulfed her, pain overpowering everything else.
ВИ ЧИТАЄТЕ
Secrets of an outcast
Романтика**will eventually undergo major editing, this was written a long time ago. I don't want to abandon the characters but I'm not happy with how fast the characters developed. Thanks to all for your continued support** Justin Cooper, at the young age of...
