The Last Time

Chapter 2

The driver pulled up outside the house far too quickly. I walk up the path slowly, preparing myself for what I know is going to come. My hands start shaking as I reach for the door handle and I try to gain control of myself, after all, it's nothing I'm not used to.
As I walk inside I notice all the lights are out. I breathe a sigh of relief, he was asleep.
I walk upstairs at a quicker pace and open the bedroom door slowly. The room was dark and deadly silent. I reach for the the light switch and flick it on. That's when I realised I had been wrong, he was not asleep. He was sitting in the armchair in the corner. Neither of us spoke, neither of us moved, we were frozen staring at each other.
I knew he was mad, I could tell from the look in his eyes. I made a move to speak but he interrupted me.
"Where have you been?"
Such a simple question, but said with no emotion and in a tone so deadly I felt chills down my spine.
"I just went out for a few drinks with Christine and lost track of time, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to keep you up this late." I quickly lie, but it makes no difference. He was going to hurt me no matter what I said.
He tensed up and launched himself out of the chair, making his way towards me.
"DON'T LIE TO ME, YOU WERE WITH HIM WEREN'T YOU? WEREN'T YOU?"
"No, no, I promi-"
"STOP LYING TO ME! YOU THINK I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU GET UP TO? YOU FILTHY WHORE, YOU DISGUST ME."
He slapped me hard across the face. It left a harsh tingling sensation that I tried to relieve with my hand, but he quickly grabbed it and pinned it above my head, doing the same with the other.
My heart was beating rapidly, my breathing short and fast. I could feel his hands tightening on my wrists, I knew I was going to have bruises there in the morning.
He took one of his hands from around my wrists, keeping the other in place, and punched me hard under my left eye. I felt blood pour out of the wound made by his ring at the impact, but I held still, knowing there was nothing I could do but just wait for it to end.
The drew his fist back again and hit me above my left temple, giving me an immediate headache.
He let go of my wrists and I slid down to the floor, unable to hold myself up any longer. He looked down at me and threw his head back with a laugh before finally kicking me twice in the ribs.
He backed away slowly and lay down on the bed, closing his eyes. It was over, for now.
I scrambled up and made my way to the bathroom. I looked closely at my face, at the wound, weeping with blood, at the purple bruise that was quickly forming around it, and the bruises left by his fist above my temple and across my cheek. This was going to be difficult to hide, there's only so much makeup can do, I think sadly.
I lift my shirt up to inspect the damage to my ribs. They were also forming a bruise, a big one, and they were tender to touch.
I look at my wrists, at the hand shaped bruises which were quickly forming around them, these, no doubt, would serve as a constant reminder of what he's done.
I let out a shaky breath, knowing that the bruises are going to look worse in the morning, and that the pain will intensify. I wipe the one tear I allowed to escape from under my eye and make my way back to the room, where I find Joe sleeping soundly.