French X-Change

The French X-Change

The French X-Change

Chapter: Prolouge

I should have let him kill me!

I should have let that bullet drive through my head. Why hadn't I let him kill me?

I thought as I crumbled myself into a corner in the bathroom. I had been sitting here for two hours.

I had an headache and my stomach grumbled very loudly. I ignored them both and waited for the tears to stop as I embraced myself, rocking myself back and forth as I stared at the shit I just put in my arm.

Why I used it didn't make any sense, I just felt like it would make me feel better and become a better person. But it hadn't. It made me weak and scared. It scared me when I thought about that needle killing me. But what scared me the most was him hitting on me. The physical abuse had been something I became used to after we engaged. The emotional abuse came when he started bringing random woman into our home and fucking them while I was kept in the basement.

I was locked away like a slave, why had he changed so drastically? Sometimes I often wondered if he were possessed. Maybe an evil and dark spirit got deep into him and took over, but then I should have listened to what my mother had told me about looks. How deceiving and pretense they could be.

Normally I would sit in this bathroom and wait for him to go to bed, which was at random times everyday. I couldn't keep a schedule with him.

Sobbing I straightened my legs and pushed myself up to stand on my two feet. Stretching I sighed and sat on the toilet. Trying to find an escape. An easy way away from Dominic.

He was any Black women's dream. He could be in every of there beds to.

Dominic was a tall, brownskinned man. He was Mexican, African american, and Asian. He was the sexist Black man to ever walk earth, and still he used his looks to get between ladies legs. How had someone so beautiful, been so abusive.

Sighing yet again, I started to stare at the sink, nothing better to do beside keep myself away from that man. He doesn't even let me out of his sight, he doesn't let me eat on certain days, and he doesn't care. He just doesn't care.

A bang made the bathroom shake and the mirrors squeak, as his bellowing voice yelled,

" BABY! I'M HOME!' He was drunk and I knew he was drunk, just by how his words slurred.

My heart did a 360 as my stomach started to get a weird swirling feeling in it. I jolted to the bathroom door and held down onto the door knob as I heard his heavy feet colliding with the steel stairs. I foolishly locked the door, knowing darn well that Dominic had the strength to knock the door off its hinges.

Every friday night, this jerk stays out and drinks with his drug smoking colleagues. He gets drunk and comes home at all times of the night taking all his drunk fury out on me.

There are even times when he is so intoxicated that he tries forcing himself on me. I never let him close. I won't let him touch me. I won't give him the most precious thing I hold dear. He'd have to kill me dead if he thought I would ever give myself to his abusive ass.

This would be the last straw. I was pulling the cord. I would no longer be his punching bag.

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Republished and some really small grammatical changes.

French X-Change