“Go to sleep….go to sleep….go…to…sleep…please…” Max whispered to himself under the covers as he lay in his room.
“IT’S NOT EVEN MY FAULT! I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT!” “THAT’S BECAUSE YOU NEVER LISTEN, CHRISTINA! EVER! ALL YOU DO IS TALK AND TALK AND TALK! WHAT ABOUT ME?! WHAT ABOUT US?! WHAT ABOUT MAX?!” “SPEAKING OF MAX, HE’S SLEPEING! JESUS! YOU’RE GONNA MAKE HIM GO THROUGH EVERYTHING I WENT THROUGH WHEN I WAS YOUNG! YOU NEVER KNOW WHEN TO STOP!” “YOU KNOW WHAT YOU WENT THROUGH WHEN YOU WERE YOUNG?! ABUSE! AND YOU STILL GOT THROUGH IT, HE’LL GET THROUGH IT.” “HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT?! YOU DON’T EVEN CARE ABOUT HIM THE WAY I DO! YOU DON’T CARE ABOUT ANYTHING!” Bam. Christina and Matt. Night after night, the words were laid flat for Max’s ears to hear. Little did the quarreling couple know, Max’s ears bled with each gruesome word that came out of Christina’s and Matt’s mouths. Words are always so powerful, and to a little boy at the age of 4, words meant everything. Every amount of hatred, every amount of love, every amount of endangerment.
“Just go to sleep…everything…is okay….mommy is okay…she’s okay…” Max whispered. He hugged his blanket even tighter, wishing that everything he said to reassure himself would be true. It wasn’t.
Christina’s hands gripped the rug that lay before her as she was now on the floor. Her tears stained the carpet as her vision became blurry. Her back stung with a hot intensity and pain too extreme to explain. Every single part of her vertebrae, her spine, burned as her tears rushed out of her eyes with her bloodshot pain. She couldn’t breathe, her heart was yearning for air, but as her vision became blurrier by the second, even a task as simple as that was too hard. The last thing those blue eyes saw was Matt walking out of the door and slamming it shut. She lay on the floor, the only thing she could do was cry. Her body experience an immense amount of pain, the only thing that worked were her tears. Her blonde hair was crumpled around her face at it stuck to her stained cheeks. Her hands occasionally held her mouth shut- she wanted to scream out in agony, but never would she show such abuse to her son.
Hours passed as Christina’s body still lay, motionless on the floor. Nothing to help her, no one to turn to, no one to tell her everything’s alright. Just the cruel reality there again to smack her in the face.
**Realities’ Horrific Words**
You’re being abused.
Everything that you’ve worked so hard to prevent is happening.
The words were imprinted in her mind as her heart pounded within her ears. It was true. It was all…so…true. Reality was there to tell her the truth, but of course, this hurt blonde would love to hear a big bucket of bullshit. One thing reassured her though.
**A Blissful Reassurance**
You can get out of this.
I know you can.
Christina clocked her eyes a bit to meet the clocks’ hands, not daring to move her back, but strained as she had to move her neck a bit. “5:36am” she read. She knew she would have to wake up in an hour, and she knew she would have to hide the bruises and lacerations that were forming on her back. She had to.
It was time.
Christina slowly, very slowly, moved her legs and tried her best to sit up. With each movement, her back stung, each of the 33 bones that made up her spine screamed for a shot of morphine, but to no avail. Nothing could help Christina deal with the pain that kept resurfacing. The only thing she could do was cover her mouth and try her best not to scream out in pain. Her lip was now bleeding as she bit it even harder when she attempted to get up. Once on her feet, she took one step forward and found herself facing the cold, tile floor once again. “Come on. You can do this. You’re unbreakable,” she said in her mind. She got up one more time, and held on to the banister to keep from falling once more. She was able to walk up the stairs, straining back the pain that killed her with every movement. Once in her room, she wouldn’t dare look at the mirror. The mirror reveals the truth. Again with that word. “Truth.” Nobody likes hearing the truth, let alone seeing it, and nothing in this world would make Christina look into the mirror. She wouldn’t be able to handle the fact that she was being abused and now had proof. She just couldn’t.
After rummaging through her closet for something to wear that covered her back, she finally found a blue dress that hid up the contents that now began to bruise. She struggled as she put it on, barely being able to zip it up without screaming. Each one of her bones in her spine screamed, but Christina’s mouth wouldn’t let them out. Nothing would. She knew this day would be killer.
As she finally arrived to the set of The Voice, she walked very slowly, trying hard not to show that she was in pain. Her excuse was “she was tired,” and wanted to walk slowly. She walked onto the stage and walked towards her chair, trying not to bring much attention from the boys, but of course, never failed.
“Hey Christina!” her fellow coaches said with a smile, and all she could do was wave. Not a word came out of her mouth that whole day, she remained silent. She was afraid that if she spoke, the boys would realize her voice was strained and shaky, which it was. She requested a pillow for her chair and once she got it, she placed it behind her, and tried to lean back on it, but lurched forward as the bruises on her back burned with everything it came in contact with. She leaned forward slowly, her heart rate increasing. She kept quiet the whole time, not looking at anyone, barely speaking, nothing at all. When asked if she was okay, all she would do is nod her head and look away. She made it through the whole day without calling attention to herself, and nobody knew about the screaming little girl who was pleading to be saved from coming home.
