Life, Love and Growing Up

Fire Inside of Me

~Warning of moderate to extreme violence~

I looked around me as my hands shook nervously. The cup I held tightly in between my palms held dark liquid which began to slosh around and my palms were covered in sweat from nervousness.

It was hot out and yet I still had a sweater on and pulled tightly around me. I didn't want people to see the scars, to see what had happened to me. I also didn't want them to see glistening metal.

The night prior to this one my "loving" and "wonderfully caring" boyfriend decided to once again beat me, this time worse than before. He shows people his goodness that didn't exist and I saw the darkness almost every single night.

After he left me alone, ready to just die, my friend called. I answered the phone and told her I needed help and fast. I hadn't told her what for exactly, she didn't know what I went though so often.

But even so, she immediately ran over to help offer up her assistance to me. When she arrived I could barely move, my muscles stiffened from the beating and in some areas small amounts of blood had begun to soak my torn clothing.

She helped me off the floor and brought me to the couch before I finally showed her my scars and my newly formed bruises. All added to my collection.

Last night he had beaten me because he didn't like the tone I had taken with him, even though it had remained the same as it always had.

"You little bitch! You think I don't hear you mocking me and thinking a fuckin dumb ass! I won't fall for that bull again."

His words had been like those of a snake. Sinister and in the form of a long hiss. His eyes were dark and his pupils almost not seen. I had asked him multiple times to go and get tested for bi-polar in his genes. It seemed like that might be the cause for his strange and sudden moods.

"I'm so so sorry. Please believe me. I . . . I didn't meant to sound like that." I cried as tears ran down my cheeks.

He never listened of course and instead would only take out his anger and maybe insecurities on me. I was strange really, how things can turn out so wrong when you try so hard to make them become right.

"No. I'm sick of you and your games. I'll teach you a lesson." He growled as his teeth grinder slowly over one another before he spit the dust out onto the floor in front of me.

The first smack was across the face, which I had to cover with tons of layers of concealer and than foundation over it. After that things became hazy.

I had stumbled back when he hit me again, but before I could fall he grabbed hold of me and pushed me against the wall and forced his lips upon mine.

I tried to get away but couldn't. I could only squeal in protest at him, that is, until he hit me again, but harder this time, and I feel to the ground after stumbling over my own two feet.

All of the time is being hurt and mistreated were all blended into one, just like my coffee with the milk and sugar, all of it now one but at the same time, different things.

"Please. I beg of you. Don't. . ." My throat closed and I could barely breath, let alone finish my prior sentence. And all because of the look on his face.

I pulled myself back on the floor and to the best of my ability tried to slide myself back, away from him, and towards the doorway.

He smirked in a sinister way at me as he undid his belt and slowly came towards me. He slid it from his belt loops and than whipped it onto the ground next to where I lay. Now paralyzed.