The Perfect Circle

Prologue

"You whore!" He roared at me, his face contorting into pure hatred. I knew this was coming.

"I'm not a whore! You were the only one I was with and you know it!" My voice held a slight tremor and my nerves were going a mile a second.

How could He say this?

It wasn't all my fault. It took two to tango.

A vein popped out in his neck. He started grabbing everything in his reach, smashing them on the floor.

"Stop! Why are you doing this?!" I wish I hadn't open my mouth. He turned his stony face to me. His eyes narrowed.

"Why am I doing this?!" He shouted, trudging to me. "You caused this on yourself!"

Before I know it, I was on the floor, holding my head in pain. I continuously felt numerous blows being landed onto my body. I screamed and begged for him to stop but my pleas fell on deaf ears.

"Stop!" I cried. The pain was slowly getting too much, too much that I couldn't bare it anymore. My vision was blurry with tears as I tried to block as much of his hits as I possibly could. My attempts were futile and he didn't stop. He took my weakness as his strength and continued hitting me until I could feel myself going unconscious.

"Don't you dare! Don't you freaking dare!" He threatened. He must have seen my eyes closing and decided that I'm not having it. He gripped my hair and pulled me up, kicking me repeatedly in my stomach and knocking out all of the air I had left in me.

"Stop!" I screamed once more when I felt a sharp pain in my stomach. I start to think about all the changes my body will begin to experience after his many hits. Those thoughts gave me the strength to fight back, and that's exactly what I did.

I started to fight back.

I grabbed a shard of glass from the plate that had been broken and dug it inside the flesh above his shoulder blade. He screamed in agony and with my weak hands, I pushed him from me with all my might. He recovered from the stab quicker than I had expected and once again, He had me pinned to the floor. I found another piece of glass and stabbed him in his thigh, this time with greater force that more than half of the glass pierced through his skin, probably rubbing against his bone.

He held a hand to his thigh, another shout of agony leaving him. I kicked him from me and dashed for the table to grab my keys. I retrieved them and limp-run to my car in his parking lot.

You know in those horror movies when the keys just suddenly fall from the person's hands, landing somewhere unknown to their own sight?

Now I conpletely understood why the keys fell. I was shaking in so much fear that if anyone saw me, they'd think I've been buried under a pile of snow for years.

I frantically looked over my shoulder to see if He had recovered from the stab and thankfully he didn't. Not yet. I turned my attention back to the bunch of keys in my hand, whispering a prayer of thanks that the car keys stood out. The pain was becoming unbearable, as I've been trying to uphold myself too long.

I pushed the keys inside the ignition before I had even sit down in the car. I started it just as He limped his way onto his porch. I slammed the door behind me and in a split second I was driving 110km/h down the road.

Curse Him for living so far from my place. It'll take a good twenty-five minutes before I could reach onto the highway and start my journey home. I don't think I could make it that far. The pain in my abdomen was excruciating.

Please don't be what I think it is.

Please.

My hands we still trembling uncontrollably and I found myself swerving in and out of my lane numerous times, earning furious honking from the drivers behind me. I turned my indicator on, deciding to pull over. I felt completely out of it. After pulling over and checking numerous times if I pulled the hand brake up, I cried.

I cried for being so stupid.

I cried for the amount of pain running through my body.

I cried because my brother was right. He had always been right.

I needed to get help. I needed to call him.

My brain's ability to function was already reducing, causing me to blink several times before I could get my phone open. I tried to take my mind from the pain and the blood that was running down my leg and from my temple and from my stomach.

Scars. I know I was going to have them. Forever.

I had managed to dial Xavie's number and begged him to come get me.

"Bring someone else so they can drive my car home..." Even in my almost unconscious state, I still managed to remember about this beauty. I know I had to get the seats cleaned but that was the least. I loved my car.

I waited and waited and waited for Xavie to come, but unconsciousness arrived before he could.

***