Breakin Me Lovin Me

3

*Warning! Triggering scene coming up.*

"Actually, I was at the park. No harm in that right?" I said firmly.

"Bitch! You were with another nigga!"

"I'm not a bitch, asshole! And that nigga is better than you."

He walks fast towards me and slaps my right cheek hard.

"Ahhh!" I deserved that. I shouldn't have egged him on.

"Say some stupid shit again slut! You were probably fucking him too!"

I looked up at him while holding my cheek.

"Yeah and while I was doing that, you were probably on your knees sucking your boss's di-." He cut me off by punching my face repeatedly.

With every word, he punched me.

"Shut!"

Punch

"The!"

Punch

"Fuck!"

Punch

"Up!"

Punch

With that last hit, I could taste the blood in my mouth and I knew my cheek and eye would be swollen soon. I touched my lip and felt it was busted. I look up and saw a hand coming down towards me fast and powerful.

Slap!

That stung so bad.

"Not talking now, uh?"

"No. I don't have time for your fucking shit, asshole!"

I get up and walk away from him and head upstairs but then I feel a force on my back. I suddenly fall on the stairs.

"Ugh!" I groan.

"What was that bitch?"

"None of your business." I rasp out.

"You never give up do you." He said more like a statement.

"Yeah, I never give up because I'm not like you. A weak-ass bitch that followers their masters around like a little bitch ass dog begging for a bone."

"You little-!" He didn't finish his sentence as he came towards me and kicked me in the face and then the most horrific thing happened in front of my very own eyes.

He kicked me in my stomach.

"No! Stop! Please stop!"

"I got your attention now bitch!"

"Stop!"

"Why? Uh?!"

"Please stop. I'm pregnant!"

He stopped mid-air and looked at me for a minute.

"Of course you're pregnant. You're a fucking slut!" He says then starts laughing.

"You were probably fucking that man you meet up with. It's called cheating."

"It's you're baby!" I plead.

"No, I don't want a child from you! You're a pathetic excuse of a woman!" He spat at me.

Then he started to punch me in my stomach but I tried my best to cover my stomach with my arms. Once he got tired of me he went downstairs to the living room and he watched football on tv like nothing ever happened.

*Triggering scene over.*

I walked upstairs more like crawled. I went into my room locked my door and head into the bathroom and I cleaned myself up. After I was done, I looked at myself in the mirror cringing at how bad I looked.

I look horrible. I have scratches everywhere on my face and some on my arms from falling on the stairs. Bruises are starting to form on my cheeks and my swollen lips, and I'm starting to get a black eye.

I lift up my shirt and see a big bruise forming on my stomach. I touched it and winced.

"Baby you there? If I'm even pregnant. Mommas here. Don't worry I won't let it happen again." I promise but I know deep down that promise will be broken soon enough.

I start the bath and put bubbles in it. What? It relaxes me, don't judge me. I get in and stay in there for about an hour or two.

How am I going to get through this? Lord, please help me.

I get out and put on some long black leggings and a long sleeve, red baggy shirt with some mitched matched socks on. I put my braids in a bun and then I head to my bed and lay down dosing off to sleep.

Will this baby die because of me? Was I even meant to have one? Lord, I put my life in your hands right now. So please send me a sign.

I hope you enjoyed me getting beat-up lovelies.