"Please stop Luke, lukie.....stop before you do something you can't take back. I love you, I would never hurt you...Lukas! Stoooop I can't breath" The grip tightens, I'm starting to hyperventilate as my head gets lighter and my body weaker. I look into those venomous blue eyes staring back at me in such disgust that I myself begin to wonder, maybe I do deserve this. His grip presses hard around my neck until I start coughing loudly in a gasp of pain.
"You think you are gonna win me over with lies, you are so fucked up Gina. You are nothing do you know that? A zero. In fact you are less then nothing. You should beg me to end it now" He is laughing now. Lashing spiteful spit onto my face. Then takes hold of my hair, picks up the scissors that lies on the bedside table and....
"Noooo!" I feel my blood-soaked hand shaking as I use my last drop of energy to punch his chin until he looses grip. He falls backwards onto the wooden floor that creeks loudly with the weight of his body.
The room is blurry and slanted, and all I want to do is run. But I can't seem to get my body to go any faster than a crawl. I grab the scissors and stumble off the huge football shaped bed in a distort jump and fall.
"Don't you dare go anywhere you bitch" He stands up slowly reaching for a tissue and very calmly starts cleaning up the blood that is seeping out from his nose in a slow stream.
I feel the wood spike into my knees as im dragging my heavy body across the floorboard towards the door. Just five meters...three ...two..o.. A grip takes hold of my hair and drags my upper body up. It's like I am trapped in my own body, I can't speak or move, paralysed with fear. All I can feel is the warm floods of fright wetting my cheeks and filling my mouth.
However hard I tried struggling to say something all I could get out was a pathetic squeak.
"Oh Ginette, you have finally chosen to obey have you" a lousy grin forms on his face as he snaps his demeaning tongue towards me like a python ready to pound his victim.
I was the pray to his bloodthirsty mind that would demolish me until I was nothing but package without content or meaning, a empty corps without flesh or soul, just bones. A piece of cloth hanging on a hanger with no purpose of its own.
I could feel the cold blade of the scissors dig into my already sore palms.
I lift the blade out and scream of fury watching how the yellow lamp reflects the blade as it is cutting the air. How it mirrors my face in an instant. That pale, baggy face that once smiled so happily.
