Leave The Light On

bleeding pain

The day had gone as expected.

She'd wake up, he'd be gone at work, she'd clean up a little, read some books, cry in the shower for a good 45 minutes, then take a 2 hour long nap.

She had the day off, and this was one of the many times she hated it.

She hated having nothing to take her mind off of things. Constantly thinking about what would've, or could've been.

But the day had ended completely different from how it started.

Well, not that different, actually.

Her morning started with tears and pain, while her night ended with tears, and pain.

But this time, it was a different type of pain.

Not the emotionally broken pain, the pain where you want to lock yourself in a room for hours in complete darkness, screaming and crying about everything and anything.

It was a physical pain.

A pain that made her fall to the ground, not knowing what to do.

Sure, her father paid for every self defense class she took when she was younger, but she never needed to use it.

So why remember?

I mean, how could she?

How could she remember simple moves and steps, when her mind was constantly dealing with pain and depression.

Her father told her she would need it for future references, and she prayed to god she wouldn't.

Because damnit, she couldn't remember the one thing that would've helped her that night.

She woke up, her eyes swollen and throat scratchy from the crying that she had been doing all day.

It was almost on cue though, just as she woke up the front door opened, and in walked him.

She yawned, stretching her body, "Hey babe."

But he didn't give a response, he remained cold and quiet. He threw his keys on the table, glaring Courtney down.

A look she had never seen before, a look of true anger and hurt.

She slowly stood up, "Is everything okay?"

He probably found out about your little rendezvous.

He stood by the door, steam practically coming out of his ears.

His cheeks matched the color of his red flannel, and his eyes looked like they were going to pop out of its sockets.

What do you say in this situation?

Do you ask what's wrong again?

Do you remain quiet, waiting for the dramatic response yet to come?

Scott took a deep breath, balling his fist so tight his knuckles became white.

"Courtney," He gritted his somewhat yellow and cricked teeth.

She blinked, tears almost erupting in her eyes like she knew deep down what words were coming next.

"Would you like to tell me why I found this in the car?"

He pulled a little black wallet out of his pocket, he held it out infront of him for a few seconds so she could get a glimpse, before violently throwing it across the room.

A wallet?

He's mad over a wallet?

What the-

Then, she realized.

It wasn't just a wallet.

It was his wallet.

She flinched as he threw it, not knowing where he was aiming.

Nothing could be heard but he's loud breathing, his nostrils flared and his veins were popping out of pale freckled arms.

She didn't know what to say, he knew what happened. She didn't need to explain, he already knew why his wallet was in the backseat of the car.

"Scott..." She shook her head and looked down, the tears that had been in her eyes before were streaming down her cheeks.

"Oh shut the fuck up. You gonna tell me it was because you were sad?! Because no one else could help you but him?! Who paid for your fucking therapy, huh?! Who was the one that cheated on you, driving you crazy to the point of fucking suicide huh?! I have done everything for you! And I get this in return?"

He was screaming so loud that all of the neighbors heard, but of course none of them would do anything.

Courtney stood there as he yelled at her, a once strong, stubborn girl had now turned into a weak, broken one.

"I'm sorry." She looked into his cold blue eyes, which no longer looked back with empathy or love.

"Why the fuck did you do it, hm? You know how it feels to be cheated yet you still went and sucked the same guys dick who purposely hurt you on live fucking television."

She tried collecting her words together, what does she even say to that?

I fucked him because he gave me better head than you, asshole. You can't rub a clit like you're scratching a mosquito bite, fucking scum.

"Scott-"

He was now in her face, barely inches apart.

"Tell me!"

He grabbed her wrist, squeezing them harder than he did before, making her wince in pain.

"I don't know! It was a mistake, okay?! I'm sorry." She cried out, saying anything to make him let go.

He practically threw her wrist and shook his head, "You know what? I should've listened to everyone, what they said about you. You're nothing but a crazy, delusional, slut."

Her blood was now filled with anger, how fucking dare he?!

She shoved him, pushing him away from her.

"Don't you fucking dare." She pointed her skinny finger at him, furrowing her eyebrows.

Scott gave a sarcastic laugh, "Oh? What are you gonna do about it, sue me? Yeah have fun with that, last time I checked, daddies not here anymore to be paying for that shit."

It was almost like a reflex to slap him, calling her a slut is low, but making comments about her fathers recent death?

Only a piece of scum would do that.

Sure, her and father never had a close relationship but that wasn't important right now. He had taken it too far.

He looked back at her, holding his red cheek. The look he had in his eye made Courtney regret ever touching him. She knew what was coming next.

Before she knew it, she was on the ground.

Instead of a hard slap, it was a hard punch.

He knew he had more strength than her, and he was taking advantage of it.

Her once gorgeous full lips were now dripping blood. She cried out in pain, wishing anyone would come help.

But no one did.

"You know what? Fuck this. I'm not spending anymore of my time on you." He walked to the door, grabbing his keys.

She remained on the floor as he walked away, crying.

"Oh, and Courtney?" He turned around and looked at the crying latina.

"Do us all a favor and cut deeper next time."

He slammed the door, leaving.

She spit the blood out of her mouth and onto the carpet, "I'll never do anything for you again, jodido coño."