iris [on hold]

➵ eight

"You idiot!" She witnessed the monster's glare piercing through her, his head getting bigger and so much redder, she thought he looked like a giant red balloon; a balloon that was going to explode. Instantaneously, he grabbed her by the hair and dragged her across the hallway. She couldn't think straight, her mind was a complete mess like a jumbled up ball of yarn.

He wasn't supposed to be here. Not right now.

She kept repeating the words. Those were the only ones her brain could generate as she tried hard to ignore the agony of her hair being pulled from their very roots. He mercilessly threw her to the floor in the living room.

"Who's the head of this household?" He interrogated. Her mind refusing to cooperate. She lay there, whimpering on the floor, her hair sticking to her face. "I asked you a question." He stated dangerously, his eyes glinting with insanity.

"You." She managed to spit out.

"Exactly, this is MY house. And that was MY property you broke."

"S-sorry." She tried to get up slowly.

"Forget that. Tell me here, you have a boyfriend? Didn't I make myself clear the last time?"

She shook her heard. To say she was confused, would have be an understatement. She wasn't lying, she had absolutely no idea how she was supposed to align the set of muddled up words he spoke. But the reply didn't seem to satisfy him, as she observed the balloon inflate so much she couldn't believe it was possible.

"Bullsh*t." He spat out, "what is this then?"

He produced a white envelope out of his jacket, and suddenly all the fragments of words started to knit together.

"No, it's not-"

"SHUT UP YOU LITTLE B*TCH " he roared, as she felt herself shrink.

"Issy, mommy said-"

Her heart almost stopped when she heard the voice. She turned around to find the five year old, in his pjs and teddy bear, eyes filled with horror and tears.

Oh shit.

That was all it took for him to start crying, louder than a police siren. She fumbled as she tried to quickly get up.

"Shut up!" He commanded, but the wails only got louder, and she knew she had to do something quick.

But before she could react, she saw him advancing towards Ben. Blood rushing through her aggressively as she dashed towards her little brother and stepped in front of him.

"Move." He glared at her, but her feet were frozen.

She shook her head. No way in hell was she moving an inch, leaving her brother to the mercy of that monster. The red balloon was reaching its limit. She knew it wouldn't just 'pop', it'd be a calamitous explosion. Yet, she refused.

He moved towards her, and pushed her with full force. She fell to the ground, but before he could face the little soul who held her heart, she immediately stood up and aggressively punched him, in the teeth.

She felt her left hand trembling, she knew the consequences she had to pay, but she held her head up high as she threatened, "lay a finger on him and it'll be your biggest regret."

And that was it.

The balloon exploded, as his fingers clutched her throat. She resisted as much as she could, but with every ounce of her force used, she felt oxygen betraying her. She was sure she was going to die. Perhaps he noticed, and released his grip. Now, leading her to the door, his nails digging through her skin.

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! AND NEVER SHOW ME THAT REVOLTING FACE OF YOURS AGAIN."

She didn't have time to process what had happened until the door slammed on her face. She stumbled back a few steps before reality hit her like a cold hard slap right across her face.

And so she ran, only this time, not away from someone, but to save one. She ran until her feet almost gave up. She reached the local phone booth, and with shaky hands, dialed her mother.

While the phone rang, she realized there was something peculiar; she didn't feel anything. Not guilt, or anger or even sadness, just nothing.

"Hello?"
A voice from the other end, answered.

"Mom, it's me. Where are you?" she whispered quickly.

"Dear, what's the matter? And where's Ben? Is everything okay?" Her mother was immediately alarmed.

"Owen kicked me out of the house, and Ben is there, alone. Can you please just go there right now?"

"I'm already on my way."
The other end was silent for a second. 

"Sweetie, I need you to listen to this carefully," she paused, "go to Rachel's house for now, I'll talk to her. I'll call you when things get sorted."

Every syllable was like a bullet through her heart. She knew what that meant, and so she held onto the phone tighter, standing there for what felt like eternity, even after she heard the line going dead; because sometimes all you can do is breathe as your heart cracks in two.

   ❄ ❆ ❄ ❆ ❄ ❆ ❄ ❆  

fast fact- Past experience of abuse or control can have an influence on what type of relationship a person pursues. But experiencing vulnerability isn't a choice—the only choice we have is how we're going to respond when we are confronted with uncertainty, risk, and emotional exposure.

note to people in the passenger seat-

"fall back seven times, get up eight."

I need you to understand that the only person in charge of your life is you. And even if there are entities in your life that make you feel otherwise, know that they are temporary. That in the end, all that matters is what you think of yourself. When writing the story of your life, don't let anyone else hold the pen.

Please know that there's a difference between being vulnerable and being overly-dependent. That we humans were programmed to have companions by our side to help us through, not saviors to get us through. That you are never alone. That there will be times where you can't do anything to change how things are. That there will be times were you are helpless, defenseless and weak. But don't let the hard times break you. Come out stronger. The scar tissues are always stronger than the original skin, and so are you.

"The most powerful moments of our lives happen when we string together the small flickers of light created by courage, compassion, and connection and see them shine in the darkness of our struggles." ⎼ Brené Brown