Abuse; noun
His eyes.
Those eyes.
That stick.
It came down on me.
Hard.
Merciless…
Holding on to the tiny silver of a thread my life dangled upon, I bit my lips in agony, feeling -
no- Tasting the blood that was seeping through my lips. That was all I had to hold on to, all I
had to concentrate on. In fact, that was all I had.
Forcing all my thoughts to focus on that little bit of liquid that lingered in my mouth, that
metallic substance that just about kept me conscious, I curled into a fetal position and tried
as I could to protect myself from the blows that never seemed to stop coming on.
With every blow I took, I could feel my skin splitting.
With every blow I took, I could feel my heart breaking.
With every blow I took, I sank my teeth deeper and deeper into those lips of mine.
But.
I would not cry.
I had done it once; I had given him the satisfaction of seeing my pain once, let him see the
hurt he himself had inflicted on me.
But no.
Never again.
That was not going to happen this time. Not this time or any other time. I lay there
screaming silently, the hurt piercing through my being, willing all the cuts, the pain, to numb
itself, willing it all to disappear and break away into nothing but a bad dream.
A long, distant, monstrous nightmare.
A nightmare.
Just a nightmare.
A nightmare.
Just a nightmare…
Suddenly, I felt the absence of the pain that was holding me in a chokehold, leaving me struggling for breath. It was gone. All that remained was the numbing, stinging pain that engulfed me. Whole. I did not know which was worse. For a few long, dark minutes I simply lay there on the cold hard floor shivering with fear, pain, sheer relief and a multitude of other emotions that I can not even begin to identify.
Then, I heard the thick mahogany door slam shut with a viciousness that chilled my bone and I began to slowly uncurl as the old metal gate rattled on its hinges.
With that, I crawled towards the thin sheet of foam covered with a barely there beaten cloth that made up my mattress.
There, I lost it.
My frail frame was simply overwhelmed by the torrent of sobs that shook me to my core. I lay there, more corpse than living soul, tearing at the bedclothes while wave after wave of emotions coursed through me and the tears that came with each wave bathed my cuts, delivering a fresh sting upon my tortured body.
I began to hold myself, rocking back and forth in a desperate attempt to calm myself down and that was how I lay, holding myself, when I finally let go and allowed myself to drift off in sweet slumber.
I awoke to the melodious whistling of a little saffron tinged bird that hopped around the perimeter of my mattress. Looking at it and the happiness, the hope it represented, I could not help but allow a wan smile to form on my blood-stained lips.
