I sat there on the bed as he continued to shout. I could only stare at my hands in my lap as he went on. "You never do anything good. I don't know why I bother coming. You're worth nothing. You're no use to anyone and you're no good for anything."
"Look at me!" He shouted, forcing my head to look up at him. I felt a pang of something shoot through me. I wasn't sure if it was fear or if it was sorrow, but it felt strange this time.
"You're a fucking whore. You hear me? You'll never be anything better, slut. You're mine and there's nothing you will ever do about it." My jaw trembled. I struggled not to break down. He'd hit me again. He'd be mad at me.
"You piece of shit, did you tell someone?" He leaned in close, gripping my package through the skirt quite suddenly. I winced as he tightened his grip, threatening me impatiently.
"N-no...!" I squeaked out. He gripped harder, and he let go just as I cried out in pain.
"Good, then you're a loyal piece of shit. Except I know you're a liar." I tried to remain silent.
"You told them. You called them during your trip to the store, didn't you? Thought you could sneak around smiling like I'm a dumbass? Bring home groceries like we're going to eat them?" His voice dripped with a condescending tone.
"I didn't call anyone," I said clearly, my voice quivering.
"Don't fucking LIE TO ME!" He swung his arm sharply and slapped my cheek, sending me sprawling a little on the bed. The sting and the pressure rang out through my face, and I struggled not to react. I wanted to cry loudly and scream angrily simultaneously, but I wasn't supposed to. He'd leave me if I did. I could only suppress the urge to groan in pain.
"You wonder why I don't fucking trust you. You aren't trustworthy at all. You go out saying you'll do what I said and meanwhile you betray me while you're away."
I started to breathe a little more quickly, though I kept it silent. He was the one who told me to go to the store... why did he do that if he thought I'd do that...?
He stood there silently, and I expected him to make some sort of move the whole time while I struggled not to flinch.
"You bitch," he spat. "You know what? Don't try to make it up. You know you are not loved. Shut up and do it."
"D-do... what...?" I asked quietly.
"Don't play dumb with me, you fucking disgrace. Suck it."
I started to think a little. I felt too dazed to really force my thoughts down, now. Why was I here...? He wanted me here.
...why?
If I'm unloved, why did he want me here? I knitted my brows, feeling my fists tighten a little. I loved him. I wanted to please him. Why... why wasn't he the same? I never did please him, it seemed.
"Are you deaf, you bitch? Suck. My. C-"
"Why?" I asked. I immediately felt a bolt of fear run up my spine, but I resisted the urge to cower. Wait. See what he'll do, I thought.
"...what the fuck did you just say to me?"
"Why do you want me to? You said I'm unloved," I felt my chest spark with apprehension. I wanted to know.
"Don't fucking talk back to me. Are you a dumbass? You must be, because everything I just said to you must not have gone through."
"Why don't you just tell me?" I asked, the feeling furthering itself. He wasn't being reasonable. Come to think of it, he never would answer my questions. What does 'talking back' even refer to? He would let me do it some of the time. Why not now?
I felt his fist go into my shoulder, and I cried out in shock. I slipped off the bed, crashing down onto the wooden floor, my skirt exposing my package for a moment. I twisted to look at him, and I saw his own hanging out from his jeans. I felt my chest fill with fear, but I convinced myself I was not going to let this happen.
"Big fuckin' mistake. You are not going off easy th-"
"What the hell is wrong with you?" I interrogated him, standing up quickly, my face flushing and a foreign aggression welling up. His face seemed to turn into one of surprise.
"So what if I questioned what you're doing? What's wrong with that?" My voice strained as I said it, faltering with outrage. My mind began to recall things.
"So what if I told them? I'm starting to get sick and tired of you! You're being horrible to me! H-No, you're being a monster! No sane person treats someone like this! I did lie to you! I fucking lied to you, because you lied to me! You told me you fucking loved me! You fucking asshole!" My voice faltered again. I felt enraged, fed up, used... so many words were flooding into my brain.
His face turned to a deep scowl, and he slowly approached me. "What the hell did you call me?"
"You dick! I loved you! I gave you my heart and you fucking raped it! LITERALLY!" My face was a bright pink, and I was trembling.
"I am not yours! This is not me! Get the fuck out!" I wasn't sure how to control this emotion that I was letting out. Before I could decide to, though, he ran toward me with his fist held back, and I didn't process what he shouted. I swung my leg to his crotch and I barely heard his cry out as his knuckle clipped my eyebrow. I shut my eyes tightly, bringing a hand to my face as I heard him collapse. I stood there with my palm pressed against my eyebrow, panting heavily.
I opened my eye and stepped over him, hobbling through the doorway into the hall. I slammed the door and walked as briskly as I could into the living room. I had to get away. I heard a knock on the front door, and I nearly sobbed with relief. I ran over to it, one hand still over my face and twisting the doorknob with the other. I pulled it open and I saw policemen standing in front of me, and I recognized some of my family behind.
Before I could say anything, I heard a door in the hall snap open, and I heard something thud against a wall. I gasped, glancing behind me before I was pulled out from the doorway. I shut my eyes tight, wrapping my arms around the person who had pulled me away. I heard the sounds of him shouting at me, shouting for me... the sound of the police restraining him... my mother's worried comforting... my own heaved sobs...
...and the sound of my slave chains breaking forever.
YOU ARE READING
That is enough
Historia CortaSome people cry because they aren't strong. Some people cry because they've been strong for far too long.