Her

Part 1:

That day was the happiest day in the world. The roses were in full bloom, the birds sang happily, and the sun was shining down on us. That day, was full of joy and love, and he smiled as I had walked down the aisle. He smiled as he said, "I do", and he smiled as we both leaned forward for a kiss to seal the deal.

That day was the end of my life.

I didn’t die, oh no what happened to me was far worse than death.

I ended my life, my social life. Familial ties severed. No friends. No one, but him.

Three years, four months, and ten days. That is how long it lasted. That’s how long I was alone.

Then it happened. I got to see the two pink lines, and I knew everything was changing. 

I wasn’t joyous. He was. I pleaded with him, to see my family, to tell them something. He denied me.

I spent my days alone at home, cleaning and making sure everything was to his liking.

It was a difficult pregnancy, but I fought through it.
I knew if I lost this fetus, my life would be over. He would kill me at that point.

I never fought through the illnesses, the pain, the complications, for the fetus. I fought through them for myself.

The moment that child left me, I felt relief.

He looked ecstatic, like when we first met. It was a baby girl. “We” named her Elle, he loved the sound of it.

She was healthy, rosy cheeked and loud. He wanted me to breastfeed her. I didn’t even want to touch her. She was breastfed.

She grew healthy, loved, and absolutely adored by him. I grew pale, solemn, and wary of what would happen. I didn’t love him.

I couldn’t love her. She was his, I was his. There was no hitting, I barely felt his touch. Then one day it changed. He changed.

I saw the man I fell in love with all those years ago. He was tender, his smile contagious. I became bright again, full of life once again.

Elle grew, and he was beside her as she learned all she needed. He let me see my mother, as she lay dying, and allowed a relationship with my sister. I had a life away from him, and away from his Elle.

I smiled more, had no regrets. I did all the things he wanted at home, but I went out every day.

I found out about my nephew, saw my father. Spent money on food, and went on adventures with my sister again.

Then life changed again.

Nine years, eleven months, thirteen days. That’s how long I was happy. That’s how long I felt alive.

Elle left. She went to school, and my life ended.

Anger became the new life. He hit me. The first time was on her first day of school. I didn’t make his lunch right, and he cuffed me, leaving a bruise for three days. Elle said nothing. I was nothing to her. She was nothing to me.

The second time he became physical was four months after. I became ill, and was incapable of leaving bed.

The house became untidy. He blamed me, and threw me from bed. He called me lazy, and kicked out, catching my ribs.