“Ow, ow, ow, ow, OW!” Christina whispered to herself. She moved her arm towards the knob of one of the cabinets to try to lift herself up. Her dress unzipped and on the floor, she stood in her bra and underwear, her body aching with bruises and cuts. A total of 3 large, black and blue bruises covered her body as cruel reminders of what’s been happening to her. She wouldn’t dare look down at herself, look at her body with such lacerations and abuse. She couldn’t. There was nothing in the world that would make her face the cold, harsh truth of the present.
She cautiously walked over to the refrigerator, her body still dripping with the beer Matt had poured all over her and her face was wet from all the tears she’s shed. Her hair stuck to her cold body as each part of her stomach pounded against her ribcage. As she tried to breathe, her stomach would expand but kill her at the same time. She wanted to stop breathing. She wanted life to stop. She wanted salvation, and if she wasn’t going to get it, what else was worth living for?
**Death’s Note **
I could see how much Christina wanted me to take her.
I could see how badly she was hurt.
But you know what else I saw?
A fighter.
She shook her head, slowly, the top of her vertebrae hurting with intense pain, trying to get those demeaning thoughts out of her mind. She let out a deep sigh and leaned forward into the freezer section and took out two ice packs for her stomach and back. As she leaned down, her back was forced to strain as her muscles tensed up. Her bones were brittle from contact as was her stomach which diminished her own strength. She closed the door and walked over to her dress and picked it up and walked up the stairs, keeping her mouth shut as to not wake up Max. She wished with all her mite that she could scream and let the pain out, but nothing along those lines could possibly happen. Nothing at all.
Once in her room, she let her dress fall to the floor and she climbed into bed with the ice packs. She slowly lay down, placing one of the ice packs behind her back, and she placed the other on her stomach. In the dark, she stared up at the ceiling and wondered to herself. Her thoughts were running around in her brain, adding on to the pressure that she had already felt. “What am I going to do? I can’t tell anyone…who do I go to…what am I doing…” Christina thought to herself. All of these questions came to no conclusion. There was no answer for her. Nobody knew what was going to happen, nobody knew whether she would be able to make it through or not. Nobody was able to give Christina guidance, not even herself. As she breathed heavily to block out the pain of coming in contact with ice packs, she didn’t hear a creak in the door. Max came out of his room.
He walked over to Christina’s doorway and saw her through the dim light that shined through the windows. He saw the ice pack on her stomach and knew that something was wrong. He could hear her crying, her breathing getting heavy. He watched her as she wiped away her tears repeatedly, proving it to be worthless because the tears kept coming out every second. Her aching stomach pumped up and down as she gasped for air to aid her violent tears. It was never a sight a child would want to see. The suffering of a parent- the gruesome scenery of it all. He started to slowly cry as he figured out what was happening. At the age of four and having a mother going through such a devastating situation crumpled his tiny heart. With each of Christina’s tears, Max suffered more and more. She tried staying as quiet as possible, but nothing was able to hide the fact from Max. Something had to be done.
When Christina woke up, she got dressed once again, and walked downstairs to find Max on the couch. “Good morning, baby, why are you up so early?” she asked. Christina was a wreck on the inside, but on the outside, she tried her best to cover it. Her voice was hoarse from the endless fight to breathe, her eyes were puffy, red and bloodshot from the tears that always found its way rolling down Christina’s cheeks, and her body. Oh gosh, her body. It was a real shame for someone to have so much confidence about her own body, but having to hide it once more to never reveal the bruises and cuts. “Can I go to work with you mommy? Pretty please?” Max asked, and Christina gave a small smile. “Sure, I’d like that.”
