Life Beneath The Words At Play

What happend the day she said she had to leave ⚠️

⚠️ Trigger Warning ⚠️
*Domestic violence, murder*

You could have told me you had to leave. You should have asked me to go with you.

We all knew if you'd return to him, you were never going to come back to us again.

You were sure that you would never fall for his old tricks now that you've burnt out.

We knew he still played with the strings, trying to dig you a path to his door to drag you inside the apartment the moment you were going to knock.

Screaming on the floor for help, but he shut you up before anyone could notice him standing over you. Before anyone could react to his hands around your throat. Before you died in his grasp.

But maybe if you'd asked for company to go with you, he could never have laid his claws on your bruised skin again.

Your scars covering your heart and broken mind should have been enough to warn you of what he would have done.

But maybe if things would have suddenly changed. If he hadn't been home that day.

What if you hadn't had to return the papers and instead sent them through mail.

Would he still have found you?

Would he be alive?

Are you still here?

Are you alive?

Did he die?

You're alive?

You're alive.

You survived.

You're alive, but you still died inside.

He's locked in chains behind a wall that won't stop him once the broken systems will let him go once again just to do the same thing and end up locked in chains behind walls that do nothing to protect you from him.

You're stuck without any walls to shield you. Broken limbs and punctured heart and marks painting your face. His hands are still imprinted on your neck. That's all you have to prove to them he should never return outside of the walls and to keep him locked up. But it is never enough to shout the same cries.

You're never going to be the same.

I wished I could have saved you.

I wish I could save you.

But there's nothing I can do. I can only stand by you and try my best to lift you up to stand on your own.

No one saved you.
No one was there to hear you.
No one could see you.
No one could witness your fight.
No one can feel your pain and struggle.

Echoing cries fill the room. It haunts my mind even though you left long before I arrived.

You died, but I make sure you're still alive in ways that no one will ever forget the girl underneath the dark memories and wounds that cover you.

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Hopefully, I wrote this in a way that is understandable and does not come off as disrespectful. If it does, however, I sincerely apologize. I do want to say this is a work of fiction, but even if I wrote this with no particular person in mind, I still know so many who have been through such things and gotten out. They did survive. Their alive and their healing from the past. There will always be souls who didn't get away. They'll be forever remembered.