Withered Like a Rose

Chapter 1

So.. I've got this.. Inspiration really.. I've been aiming towards domestic abuse. I've been thinking about it. Putting things together. It's just flowing through me now. Hah.. I don't know. I've been in this weird mood. Maybe that's why. xD Anyways.. Here it is. I really hope it's good. I've just been sitting here for hours. I'm such a weirdo. xD. I've been working on quite a few ideas actually. I've got another one up called Orphan. I'm trying to decide which idea is better. So.. If you could give me thoughts on both of them.. That would be great. :]

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AHA! I fixed the paragraphs. xD Wasn't that hard really, I'm just lazy. c:

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                                                                  Chapter 1

    Fear. That's all I know. Fear. The concept, so familiar.

     But I can't get used to the dread that always fills my stomach, whenever I hear the name. Whenever I see that face. That face I used to love. Now, there is only hate. Hate, fear, violence. I never thought this would happen to me. I never thought I was capable of the hate that fills me even now. The hate, it's so strong, my vision blurs everytime I give it the fuel it needs.

    There's nothing I can even dare do about any of this hate that builds up. Not if I want to live anyways. And now, as I look in the mirror, at my blackening eye.. Well I could feel the hatred growing to extreme measures. I wanted to scream, smash the glass, punch the walls. I hated that man so much, I could watch him suffocate with a smile on my face. I don't know what I ever saw in him.

    Then again.. When we had first started going out. He had been such the sweetheart. I really had loved those days. I had thought I'd found the man I'd spend the rest of my life with. I thought I was the luckiest woman in the world, when I was obviously the stupidest woman in the world.

    I shouldn't have looked past the drugs. I shouldn't have made excuses. I'm blaming myself now. I know. These are thoughts I have every minute of everyday. Sometimes I think of it so much, my thoughts jump to my lips in the most dangerous of times. When he is there. He'll give me this look. This annoyed look, that tells me how he hates it when I speak. So I figure it's safe to close my mouth and watch the wall again. Usually it works.

    My eye started throbbing. Reminding me, again how I'd gotten it in the first place. It had been one of those days, where I could barely control my anger towards him. He had told me about how I needed to go onto a diet. That I was gaining weight. If I didn't lose the weight, then he was going to starve me.

     I had only rolled my eyes and looked down at my stomach, which hadn't grown an inch. He had screamed at me. Next thing I knew I was yelling back. I only got one word out before I saw a fist heading straight for my face. I wanted to duck, I went to dive away, but wasn't fast enough, and just barely saved myself from a broken nose. Instead I got a dizzying punch to the eye. Lights had danced in front of my eyes for five blissful minutes, when all I could hear was a slight ringing, and all I could see were lights dancing beautifully and seductivly.

    Then I had come back to hell. He was yelling at me still. He was going on and on about how if anyone asked, I had clumisly pushed something off of the top shelf I was trying to get to, and it fell on my face. I got no appology. I never got checked for a concussion. I was lucky I wasn't dead.. Yet. It's not like I would have to explain it to anyone anyways. I was rarely allowed out of the house. If I tried going out without informing Nate, my husband... Sadly, well... Things wouldn't be pretty. And neither would my face. I sighed and exited the bathroom.