Emotions and Words Turned into Poetry

Casual Wounds

(Read at your own risk.)

College is over.
It's time to find a new place.
All on my own.
Or, that's what I thought.
A couple months ago, one of my classmates confessed to me. It was... confusing, to say the least. He had the looks. But, you know the old saying, "The good looking ones are not the nicest ones."
Yet, I didn't listen to that.
I gave him a chance. How stupid was I?
We were lovebirds. The usual for the populars in college. It made me feel as if I was back in high school. Fond moments. But, I didn't share those with him. Not to his likings anyways.
He gave a sense of dominance over the ones he loved. But I didn't let him control me.
At least, that's what I was thinking to myself.
He chose the house.
He kept the money.
He chose the blankets. The beds. The rooms. The decorations - Everything!
I thought I was my only person, but it looks like I was wrong. Yet, I didn't really mind at the time. Not really. Not a lot. It just felt like someone was keeping me in line.
That's what it felt like - truly.
That is...
until we found out I was pregnant. Five months into living with each other, I took the test. And; WHAT DO YOU KNOW?!
The girl is pregnant.
I am pregnant!!
I was so excited.
I was going to be a mother. A mother to a beautiful child. One that will bring smiles and happiness into the world. I knew they would be someone worth while. Someone worth the wait.
So, we went to the hospital to get an ultrasound.
He wanted a girl.
I wanted a boy.
And... My child was a boy! Though, my boyfriend was not too happy about it at first. He had stormed out of the room, leaving me in tears. Sobbing.
Wondering why he would hate a child for their gender...
We went home, my boyfriend not talking to me. Giving me the cold shoulder.
I didn't have any power over making our child a boy or a girl.
OUR child.
Yeah right...
The next day, I get a text from one of my old childhood friends. His name was Bryan. Bryan asked me how I was doing and if I had a job. I told him I was okay, and I was working at a café down the street from my home. I also told Bryan that I was pregnant with a boy. Bryan was practically texting nonstop with happiness.
He was proud of me for having my priorities straight enough to be able to have a child. He said he was in the area. So we planned to meet up at my work. What could possibly go wrong?
Everything.
As I was cleaning up a table, I felt a hand touch my shoulder gently. I looked over and saw Bryan. My eyes brightened in happiness. Just seeing my friend was enough to make up for everything my boyfriend had said to me. Every curse my boyfriend yelled at me. Every tear I shed - Just seeing Bryan made all of those events disappear out of my brain.
As I got on my break, we started talking about our lives and what we missed out on.
I was laughing. For once. Laughing. Smiling. How sad I was when my boyfriend entered and stared directly at us. His eyes slowly moved to Bryan. Bryan waved to him, making him tense up.
My eyes widened in fear when Bryan was pushed down to the ground. My boyfriend was overreacting! Bryan tried to reason with my boyfriend, but my boyfriend did not want to listen. Not at all.
All he did was wrap his hands around Bryan's neck and squeeze. Bryan's face went pale, and then went lifeless. After long torturous minutes of me screaming for my boyfriend to show mercy for Bryan, my boyfriend finally got off the floor and looked at me.
I backed away from his trembling form. He was breathing heavily - beads of sweat running down his face. As my back hit the wall, I realized what my situation was:
I was trapped. Screwed.
Everything was over!
I felt pain rush through my scalp as my boyfriend grabbed a fist full of my hair. He yanked me close to him and whispered insults in my ear harshly. His voice was petrifying.
I was then flung down to the ground. My temple hitting the side of the counter where desserts were displayed for passerby's to see. I landed right on my stomach. My eyes flashing open in pain.
A scream of agony escaped my lips as I realized what danger my baby was in.
My child...
My hair was pulled once again, causing me to stumble to my feet. I struggled to keep myself stable; on my feet. My boyfriend let go of my now tangled hair. He then latched onto my wrist tightly, dragging me out of the café.
Everyone in said café was either filming the ordeal or was too fearful to do anything. I was thrown into my boyfriends car; the back seat was filled up of cans and dirty clothes. The perfect place to throw a damaged pregnant woman.
I slowly buckled myself, and kept my eyes down. I got a heated lecture from my boyfriend. Who was fuming in rage.
I flinched every time he either swore, raised his voice, or threw an insult at me. He turned sharp corners. Ran two red lights. And almost caused someone to run into a streetlight.
I was weeping by the time we pulled into our driveway. As we came to an abrupt stop, he told me to get out. I did as I was told, just so I wouldn't get hit. But I was wrong.
Once we stepped into the house, all Hell broke loose.
Two months later was our next hospital appointment. The ultrasound showed that the baby was in a bad situation. He was crippled because of my fall.
The thing that set me off was that...
my boyfriend smirked at the news.
I was questioned about my bruises all up and down my arms and stomach, and along my back - but my boyfriend just said, "Oh no! They're just casual wounds!"
The doctor bought the bait.
I was treated.
And then went back home to the endless torture. My torturer soon to become my husband by force. This man does not know what consent means.
When I finally fell into labor, I was so excited to hold my beautiful little boy. To see him. His life-filled eyes. To hear his first laugh. To see his first smile.
But after all the pushing. The screaming. And the blood...
blood...
We found out..
that my baby had been dead for four weeks. He had started to decompose in my stomach.
I never knew what true sadness and despair felt like until then.
But my husband was laughing.
LAUGHING.
As I was crying.
He laughed.
Two days later, I was checked out of the hospital. I was brought back to prison - Oh! I mean home.
All these events become too much for me.
I was in the bathroom. 42 sleeping pills in my hands. Staring myself in the eyes. I was looking in the mirror. My face was full of faded bruises and small scars - that's the same for every other body part I had.
Tears clouded my vision. And:
I swallowed as many of the sleeping pills as I could.

~Jennifer Radley~
Died - **** , at age 27
Cause of Death - Overdose on sleeping pills
"The men with good looks are not always the nicest."

Edit:
THIS IS NOT A TRUE STORY!! It might seem similar to some events, but no. This is all fiction. All my writing pieces are fiction. I'm sorry for the misunderstanding, but this is all fiction.