The Pieces He Needs

Chapter thirteen ↠

The next thing I know, the boy I loved brought his hand quickly to the bottom of my jaw. Blood spills from the inside of my mouth, and the pain has an unpleasant warmth to it, eating at my stomach.  I use all the strength I have left in my body to stand up. 

He hits me again, and pain sears through my abdomen better than a branding iron, my mind conceding to the torment, unable to bring a thought to completion. There was blood all over the carpet. I grab onto the coffee table for support, taking deep breaths and trying do stay clam. I've often prized myself in ignoring pain and just rocking on regardless, but that just isn't possible right now. It owns me, dominates every thought, controls every action.

I begin to cry. I don't want to; I don't want him to see how weak I am. But I can't help it. I feel so alone and helpless. 

He picks me up from the ground and throws me onto the couch. struggling is pointless, but I do it anyway. He wraps his large arms around my neck and rocks me back and fourth; pain ripping through my body.

"How dare you go behind me back!" His face is bursting with rage, and it doesn't look like he's going to stop anytime soon.

I can barely breathe, "Stop! Please stop! I'll do anything, just please stop! Don't kill me Sam, please."

A sudden look of realisation crosses over Sam's face, and his hands release from my neck. My throat gurgles as I struggled to breathe. A series of strange noises escape form my lips as I attempt to re-gain my breath. Eventually the pain settles into a sort of sharp throbbing.

I wanted to be honest. I knew that if I didn't tell Sam about Ben he would find out one way or another. So I decided I'd tell him as soon as I got home. It made him more furious than ever. And now sitting here; with my throat burning like it's on fire, I know I made a mistake.

"I'm sorry" I barely squeak.

He leans against the sofa, his hands pressed against his face. His hair was ruffled everywhere and his arms were dripping with sweat. Even though every bone in my body ached; my heart ached more for him. He looked so weak, so fragile. I wanted more than anything to curl into his arms and hold him all night. But he was angry at me, and he should be too. 

"You have no idea" He finally speaks, "what it feels like to sit around at home knowing the one you love is with someone else."

His words make my heart melt. I hadn't thought about that; about how it would affect him. I had left for my own safety, because I was fearful of him, but I never wanted to hurt him. I was selfish.

"I'm sorry." I say once again, and I really mean it. 

He just looks at me; his face expressionless. 

Knock, knock, knock

Sam's head whips towards the door, and a look of determination crosses over his expression. No no no no. Please don't let it be Ben, please don't let it be Ben. I attempt to stand up, but pain stabs through my ribs and I collapse back onto the couch. Sam looks at me for a second, the edges of his mouth curling up into a small smile, before leaping up from the couch and racing toward the door.

"No!" I cry, attempting to stand up once again. 

I walk like my limbs don't really belong to me and each step is a negotiation rather than an order. Everything hurts now. Every damn thing. I wince to cross the floor, but I know I must reach the door before Sam does. I feel as though my limbs have been flash-burned with acid from the inside - just sufficient to make them move like the living cells have been replaced by aging rubber bands, thick and twisted. Sam's hands rap around the door knob and all I can do is pray that he won't bash Ben to bits.