"Look at you" he shouts as he drags me before the mirror,
"I'm surprised the mirror didn't fall apart the minute your reflection appeared" he chuckles.
As I stand there, afraid to meet my own gaze, I realized that in that moment he was right. I was ugly, not just my looks, but my hear, my mind, my soul. All of me. I was ugly because of him, and the mistakes that I had made. As the taste of my tears, sweat and blood seeped into the corner of my mouth I felt him drag my head up by what was left of my hair . Dear Lord, what was he going to do now? If I was lucky he would kill me, but I've never been lucky and God has never stopped to answer my prayers before; so why should he start now?
YOU ARE READING
Beauty Is In The Eyes of The Beholder
RomanceWhile other five year old girls were busy playing with dolls, Beauty could be found climbing trees, bare chested and in the company of boys. When other girls were writing notes to their crushes, Beauty was locked in her room listening to music, her...
