The love that hurt...

Here we go again, another knock on the door. Rushing to the bathroom, I grasped the door knob and locked it after slamming the door shut.  I was greeted by the daunting reflection of myself in the mirror. It was like this person wasn’t even me anymore, what have I become?  My sobbing was plagued by the shock of my appearance and the difficulty in covering up the dark bruises that were starting to appear on my face. With trembling hands, I begin to work faster, as I hear the sounds of the police interrogating my husband, the one whom supposedly loved me. “According to the neighbours, they have heard terrifying screams from a woman. So we just came to see if everything is ok. And we need to search the premises.” That was the female police officer. I can hear my husband screaming, “Nothing’s wrong, we are fine! Just leave us alone.” Just as soon as I walked out of the bathroom, the police barged in; they asked my husband to stay outside. My eyes were full of tears and even though I tried to deny the pain and cover the bruises my eyes spoke a thousand words.