Over My Dead Body

2 - The Day Before

"Just shut up!" He screamed with his hand in the air, "you're so fucking annoying!" Without a second thought, he grabbed me by my hair and slammed me to the ground. The way my body hit the hard wooden floor, I know there were gonna be bruises in a few hours. He started to curse and when he looked at me, he smacked me with all the force in the world. I barely cowered in fear anymore, being used to being hit over the smallest thing like raising my voice, caused him to go into a fit of rage.

"You're going in the basement again since you love it there so fucking much." He spat at me along with spitting in my face.

I was numb to all of this, it didn't phase me anymore. As bad as it seems, I don't know why I haven't left but I can guarantee it's only so long before I snap on him. Maybe even kill him, we'll see. Getting dragged down a flight of stairs, he made sure my head hit every step on the way down. Sure, I should've been dead already or something along those lines but it's whatever. I've dealt with it for so long.

Couldn't go to the hospital, the doctors don't care about you until you die and they are collecting the hospital bill from your family. Whatever. I lived in a run-down town in the middle of nowhere, the countless murders that go unsolved just bring the population down so no one cared. The police here barely did their job, it was every man for himself. Lovely right?

Being thrown at the wall, I felt my body go limp. I couldn't do much to defend myself, he was 6'2 and 250 pounds of muscle. It was pointless to fight back. I'll get my time to treat him the same way he treats me. Just wait on it.

"You just love to piss me off, don't you?" He yelled. And like usual, ignored him staring blankly at the wall across from me where the meet hook hung.

"Answer me!" He yelled kicking me in the stomach.

No answer.

"I said answer me!" He yelled again grabbing me by my hair and making me look at him.

I shrugged and wanted him to put me down, but no words came out. There was no point in speaking if he's just gonna tell me to shut up. Why bother talking to someone who won't listen? It was better to stay silent than to argue with him. Dropping me to the ground, I let out a harsh grunt knowing that I would be feeling what he had done to me in mere hours. Like I said, I was used to it.

Storming up the stairs after taking his anger out on me, he slammed the door, and right on cue was the lock on the other side of the door. It was cold and sticky down here, but it was like a second home to me. It was comforting. Pushing my limp and broken body off the floor, I leaned up against the cold brick wall.

My mind was pondering with thoughts and ideas, how could I get him back? Make him feel the same way he made me. But then again, how would I even get to land a hit on him? He was pure muscle and could easily pick me up with ease and slam me through a table as he did on Halloween. But that's another story for another day.

I've about had it with him, and I was getting pretty close to my breaking point.