Into the unknown

Chapter 10.

The feel of Valentino's hand suddenly disappeared from my face. It wasn't until I felt a surge of pain through my body, as my bum hit the floor with a loud smack, did I realise that he had dropped me onto the ground. The sound of my body falling to the laminate flooring echoing around the room. He took a few steps back from me and threw his hands across the table, causing everything to fall onto the floor alongside me. The crashing and breaking of plates and bowls started me. making me heart beat at an unnameable speed. I shuffled myself backwards until I felt a wall against my back, telling me that I could escape from his outburst no further. 

"You try and be fucking nice and this is what you get." He ranted, his arm swinging under one of the dining chairs. He threw it across the room, making it crash against the wall before breaking apart and landing in pieces all over the dining room.

I brought my legs up to my chin, as my arms wrapped around them. Squeezing my body together, I tried to conceal my sobs, scared that they would show him my weakness and anger him further. My body began to feel like it was freezing up, I was unable to move on command, but I was trembling uncontrollably. It was as if my body was no longer mine, I had no control over it. I was sat here watching Valentino destroy the dining room, but I couldn't do anything. I couldn't speak and tell him to stop; I couldn't get up and leave the room. Everything was moving in slow motion as my eyes revealed the scene before me, blurred by the river running down my face. The coldness around me made the tears feel like drops of ice, making it known that this was all real. Too damn real.

All of a sudden, I was standing on the opposite side of the room, looking at myself cowered into the corner, scared for my life, but not for the first time. It was a feeling I had experienced many times in my life. Standing beside Valentino, I could see the anger radiating through his body, as his palms rested flat on the table, his nails digging into the surface and his knuckles turning pale from the intense grip. I could feel the sparks of heat and electric bubbling under his skin, as he tried to contain the depths of his fury.

I walked around the table, standing opposite him. He was panting heavily, his body shaking with rage. His hands turned, gripping the table from underneath. Within seconds, it was lifted up from the ground as he threw it in my direction. I held my breath, waiting for the collision, but it never came. I didn't feel a thing.

The table had flown straight through my body and smashed against the same wall as the chair, joining the broken pieces of wood on the floor. I looked to the corner of the room to see myself still shaking at a neurotic speed, only this time I wasn't alone. Darren's looming figure was hovering over me, a bottle in his hand. His other hand gripped into my hair, pulling me up and throwing my limp body into the pile of broken mess. He then stood beside Valentino, both of them laughing like maniacs, sharing the alcohol between them, as they stared at me. The pathetic and weak girl who spent her life being the release of people's nasty and uncontainable emotions.

I tried to scream at myself to run, but no words came out. All I could do was watch my, barely conscious, body lay there as blood ran out of my wounds and dripped onto the destroyed pieces of furniture. Darren walked to my body and tipped the liquid from his bottle all over me, before he returned to Valentino's side. The smell of alcohol filled the room, making me feel as if I was back at home. Only this time, it was in Valentino's house and he was a part of my torture. Maybe this was the mysterious feeling I got from him, he relished in inflicting pain and hurt onto people? Maybe I failed to see the person he really was. Did I allow myself to get caught up in my escape from Darren that I gave Valentino a way in to break me down even further?

Valentino reached deep into his pocket and pulled out a silver lighter. Popping the lid open, he flicked the flame on and off, on and off, in a mocking kind of way, highlighting the fact that my life was currently in his hands. He would dictate whether I lived or died. But did I really want to live? What was a life if you were stuck in the same cycle and freedom only seemed to get further and farther away from you?