Oneshots

Like A Moth Drawn To A Flame

I fell to the floor on to the broken beer bottle. I cried out when I felt the glass pierce my skin. I felt him kick my stomach and I flew into the wall knocking the picture of us on his birthday to the floor. The frame shattered leaving the picture of the happy couple we used to be to be soaking on the ground.

My throat burned and my face felt swollen. I tried to stand up when I was once again knocked into the wall by his foot. "THAT'S WHAT YOU GET FOR STOPPING ME YOU BITCH!" He slurred and stomped out the house with a new beer in one hand and car keys in the other.

I vomited blood feeling my head pounding. I leaned against the wall and tried to breathe through my nose. I was having quite a lot of difficulty and I could feel a lump in my throat start to rise. My blurry vision darkened as a flood of tears rolled down my cheeks. 'How did it come to this?' I thought as I sobbed into my calloused and cut hands. 'Where did it all go wrong?'

I sat there in the dark living room sobbing for hours just questioning where and when everything started going downhill. The living room was a mess, with alcohol spilt onto the floor and broken glass everywhere. Chairs were turned over and dishes were spilt and forgotten on the dining room table. I could feel the glass dig into my skin with the alcohol burning it, but I didn't move. Blood trickled down onto the floor as I just sat there.

I lost track of time but I do know that it was long past midnight with the moon high in the sky shining in all it's glory. At this time I just silently moved from my spot on the floor my body aching in protest. My eyes were long dry with no more tears to spill. I walked up the stairs and into the masters bedroom that he and I shared together. He hasn't slept here for over 7 months leaving me alone on the big lonely bed. I trudged into the bathroom looking at myself in the mirror. I see a tall pale girl hunched over. She had short and uneven cut hair with bald spots in view.

I can faintly remember that one time where he got angry at me for staying out so late. He was intoxicated and wasn't thinking clearly so he couldn't be blamed for what he did. I remember that night involved a lot of screaming and kicking on my part but I had forgiven him for that night. I must have done something wrong for him to be so angry right? I remember waking up the next morning alone on the bed feeling sore all over and my head pounding. There was blood on the sheets and marks all over my body. There were cloches of blood on my head from when he thought I was misbehaving too much or being too loud that night.

I faintly touched my short hair that looked like it was cut in a hurry and remembered that night.

"Shut the fuck up!" He slapped me. I whimpered and tried to prevent my screams of pain being heard as he forced himself into me over and over again. My black hair was extremely long at the time as it reached past my knees. He had to move it a lot of times to properly enjoy himself, but he grew irritated fast and pulled my hair. Hard. Ripping a part of my scalp making me scream. "Why can't you learn to just KEEP QUIET?!" He yelled yanking even more hair. I could feel the pillow underneath me slowly get drenched in blood. I kept asking him to stop hoping he would listen. I kept telling him that I was sorry. Sorry for a mistake I didn't know I committed. He grew extremely angry and kept hitting me in the face successfully knocking me out. When I woke up he was gone but I saw discarded scissors on the floor and long black hair everywhere. It was only then that I realized he had cut off my hair. The only thing I was proud of and the most precious part of me and my dignity. [1]

The girl in the mirror had hair that barely reached past her shoulders making me feel shame with no dignity left. It had been months since that fateful night happened but my bald spot had no signs of healing. My hair grew normally but the bald spots seem to stay barren and ugly. I eyed the bright green and blue bruise on my cheek. I had a black eye and severe eye bags. My lips were dry and it would bleed whenever I moved them. My shirt and pants were soaked in blood and tattered beyond recognition. There were bits of glass sticking out of my body making it look like spikes were growing out of me.