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A/N: This is going to be a longer chapter. 

By the way: yes, the italics at the top of each chapter are V's quotes about Mimi.


"I wanted you to show me every twisted, frightened thought you've ever had. I wanted your eyes to crack my bones; I wanted your words to tear my skin apart."


He held me for the longest time, even after I had woken up against his chest. We had fallen asleep on top of his couch.

I looked out the window and it was still very dark, the moon nowhere to be seen. The sun must be on its way up in a couple hours.

I slowly sat up, hoping not to disturb his sleep.

He looked so peaceful, his entire face seemed so innocent and baby like. Anything seductive and sensual that always made my heart skip a beat had all vanished as soon as he had closed his eyes.

I stood up and made my way to the bedroom I was no longer afraid to call my own. It was obvious I wasn't going back to my apartment anytime soon, so I might as well make myself a little bit more comfortable.

I grabbed a towel out of the bathroom closet and started running the warm water. The sound of the water hitting against the shower tiles echoed nicely throughout the room.

I finally gained enough courage to look at myself in the mirror, and I gasped in shock.

To be honest, I didn't think that much damage happened to me during our fight, but I guess he hit me more than I remember.

A small bruise was forming on my cheek bone, the opposite side of my black eye I had gotten a couple days earlier. My pale skin was marked with multiple red marks. I could tell they would be faint bruises, but not at all like what was on my face.

A giant, inflamed cut was on my ribs, and what appeared to be rug burn on my back. At least that made sense since he was on top of me.

I sighed sadly and tried to brush out all the snarls in my hair with my fingers before making my way into the shower.

I didn't have much energy to stand, so I just sat on the tiled floor, my back leaning up against the cold wall.

I hissed in pain as the many tiny cuts were being washed, and the gigantic patch of rug burn seemed to cool down as the water did its job.

I wanted to cry, to let it all out, but I didn't have any more tears in me. I was emotionally and mentally drained, and that was my first time being completely done with the entire situation.

I was exhausted; tired. I didn't understand how I had gotten this deep into an abusive relationship, but I hated myself for it. I should have known better. I should have left him as soon as he hit me and never looked back.

What type of woman was I?

I groaned to myself.

How was I supposed to know it would get that bad? I shouldn't blame myself.

He was the one that made me feel like I had nowhere to turn to, and since I finally did, I saw everything a little bit more clearly.

I turned off the water and hopped out of the small enclosed room, drying myself before putting on a set of clothes that were still out from the last time I had stayed over.

It was as if he was expecting me to return, or he had just forgotten about them.

Frankly, I thought about returning before now, but didn't because my pride had taken over me; pride and fear.

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