"Uhm.. Sir? Can I help you?" I mumble while staring at him.
He breaks out into a huge grin, the kind of grin you see on little kids when they get their favorite toy.
He reaches out to me, and I start to fall backwards trying to move away. He latch...
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I woke up feeling angry, and different..
I did not wake up this time feeling sorry and submissive. The exact opposite actually. I wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. It isn't fair of him to beat me when I did nothing wrong. And I feel like this time, he messed something inside of my brain up. This time, I think he may have given me brain damage. Because the pure, red hot rage I feel, is not natural for me. I don't feel scared. I don't feel worried I upset him. I don't feel inclined to apologize. I feel inclined to punch him.
With these thoughts in mind, I peel the sheet off my face, and glance around the room. I thought he wasn't here, until I saw the light in the bathroom on. I decide to wait for him, and so I sit up, head high, watching the door. It doesn't take long before the bathroom light clicks off, and he steps out. His eyes travel over to the bed, those beautiful blue eyes I do love, and he freezes once he is aware I am awake.
Clearing his throat, he walks over to me, and sits on the bed.
"We need to talk."
"Yes we do." I agree.
I can see the surprise on his face. He didn't expect me to speak boldly. He expected me to cower, cry, and beg for forgiveness. But that isn't happening this time. I refuse. This is his fault, and he needs to be aware of it.
He opens his mouth to speak, but I quickly cut him off.
"Yeah I have things I need to say first. You beat me unconscious for no reason. I hope you realize that. I wasn't going anywhere. I was having a panic attack and I wanted air on my face. That's it. But you fucking beat me for it. It's not okay. I refuse to apologize when I wasn't in the wrong. I actually think you should apologize to me." I tell him as bluntly as possible.
I watch as his face goes from confusion, to pure rage. His face twists up, as his hands also ball into fists.
"Who the fuck do you think you're speaking to Layla?" He seethes at me.
"You, Ryder. I am speaking to you."
His hand shoots out, attempting to wrap around my throat, but I roughly push it away from me.
"You can't keep beating me just cause you're fucking mad, Ryder! I didn't do anything wrong!" I shout at him.
I know I am crossing so many lines that I shouldn't with him but I am just done with him getting away with how he treats me. I am tired of being the scared, submissive, little girl. And if there's anyone to blame, it's him. He did this to me.
