Mr Right Goes Wrong- (Short Story)

Laying awake and the thoughts of that night come back to me. Slowly showing themselves with each memory arising. Going back six months, it’s making me feel ill and sick to my stomach. I can’t seem to be able to ignore those bad dreams.

They keep me awake very night and I’m just so tired, all I want is to sleep. To fall asleep without those horrific dreams, the memories that keep stalking me. Haunting me and tearing my life apart.

That fateful evening on a hot summers day, Mr Right, (so I thought), entered my life. Without a doubt, I fell truly and madly in love with him. He showered me with flowers, chocolates and so many kisses. His lips promised me the sweetest things in the world, and with his every word, I believed him.

I had my dream guy right where I wanted him. He said those magic words and then we were engaged. It was like a fantasy and there was no-one here on Earth that could take feeling away from me.

I stirred, the not so fond memories made me shake and spit up flem from my stomach. The pain hurt, cutting me deeper each time I remembered. He was my Knight, but nothing could of prepared me for what was to come.

That afternoon on a Thursday, Mr Right came around and was lustful, then when he got what he wanted he then thought it would be nice to smack me around. Kicking me to the ground, doubling over in sheer pain, screaming for him to stop. The filthy part of everything, he kept saying, “I’ve got to teach a lesson”, “I love you” and the worst pasrt of what he was saying with every boot that eventually made me ooze crimson, he hastily chimed, “You’re mine now”. He spat it out like I was a possession.

After that episode, I was under his watchful eye. I couldn’t leave the house without him or even use the toulet without him lurking near the door.

This wasn’t the life that I had dreamed of for myself and in a room full of nothingness, I grew to hate myself. But I hated him more, a little more each day.

The love making sessions became for me more of a chore. His form of fore play was practising his right hook. I was falling apart and no-one was around to see it. What friends or family that I once had were long gne. Giving up on me after seeing me time and time again black and blue. Each time they visited they pleaded with me to leave, but I knew if I did he’d kill me and whoever was around at the time. A chance I wasn’t going to take, to myself in danger was one thing, but to put my loved one’s in it wasn’t fair.

So I never had the strength to try and run away, knowing he’d always find me.

But when I had been knocked down, thrown against the wall and stepped all over, it was the last straw.

I knew I had to escape and when I saw a window I took it.

I grabbed a knife from the kitchen when he’d left the room and she entered the bedroom. He pounced on her and ready to slap her around, she knifed him in the chest. He pushed her and while still stumbling around, he gave her one last lunge.

The next thing seen was a blurred vision of red flashing sirens.

Mr Right gone wrong was found dead and she was found unconcious on the floor.

Those were my darkest memories fogging up mind and causing me such pain.

Now all I can see is a brighter future, even if it’s behind bars for the next forty years. In here I’m not alone and while I’m getting stronger everyday, the postive thing is that I know he’s dead and never going to hurt me ever again!