Catch Me When I Fall

Scream

I desperately try to wriggle free, but Boris is somewhat beefy and I'm apparently underweight.

Another paroxysm of pain courses through my body as Boris pulls the knife out from where it had previously been wedged into my skin. 

I can feel the blood trickling down from around the wound.

I have to get out from underneath him, or else he's going to swing again and I won't survive.

Maybe I won't even survive now.

Boris has been mad at me before. He's said horrible things and done horrible things, but's he never actually tried to kill me. Not until this morning. 

I don't think I'll ever see him the same again.

"You deserve to suffer." Boris scowls, anger heavily present in his tone. 

I can't help but feel like he's watching me with a satisfied grin smeared across his face.

It's hard to imagine that he's not always like this right now.

I hope Khai never knows this happened to me. More importantly, I hope he gets to see me again.

Boris gets up and drags me with him, then pins me against the nearest wall.

He begins yelling insults at me that I can barely hear because of how much pain I'm in. My head is spinning.

Probably because losing blood makes you lose calories, and I don't have many of those to begin with.

But more likely because I've been badly beaten. And still am, apparently. 

I watch Boris's hands carefully, but I can't see the knife he had earlier. 

I hope it's on the floor somewhere and that he's forgotten about it, not that it's wedged somewhere else in my body. I probably would've noticed if it was, but I feel half-aware of what's going on right now and everything's happening quicker than I can process it.

I don't know how long this will go on. I need to find some way to stop Boris.

I push against him, fighting with all the strength I have. He's not very stable on his feet, and that's the only way I manage to slip away from being pinned against the wall. 

When he launches himself at me again, I kick him in the face. 

That always does the trick.

I end up falling backwards, too, because of the force of him charging at me. But I recover quicker than he does, and I get right back up, then flee up the stairs.

I rush to my room when I hear Boris swearing at me, then slip inside, locking the door behind me. 

I sink to the floor, leaning against the door.

My heart pounds wildly in my chest, even more so when I hear Boris trudging up the stairs in a drunken manner, still swearing.

I force my tears back, and drop my head in my arms. 

My whole body is shaking from both immense pain and fear, but I do feel just a tad safer with a locked door between us.

If he does break through, I don't think I'll live.

I hear pounding on my door suddenly, followed by Boris screaming,

"Open the fucking door, asshole!"

I remain adamant.

Thanks, but no thanks. I'd rather live, I think.

I remain completely silent, acting like I'm not there even though he knows I am.