The Broken Tale

One cry, one regret

Warning, very violent chapter coming.
Not advised for the faint of heart, people under the age of 18 or people who get offended easily.

Layla picked up the plates and forks, the house was so dimly lit that she could only barely see where she was going. The only light in the dinning room and living room were two small lamps. Layla sighed and put down the bowl of salad. The dinning room and living room were only separated with one small bar counter, Layla could see Ali sitting in the same chair he had been sitting in for the past four hours now, his jaw resting on his knuckles, his eyes looking down at the wooden floor blankly, he hadn't moved an inch or said a word in over four hours.
Layla put a hand on her belly, a small but short lived smile crossed her lips when she felt that her stomach had grown a little. Her heart wrenched with pity for Ali, her own unborn baby was probably no bigger than a fingernail but she couldn't imagine how she could ever go on if something happened to it, she could barely imagine how much pain Ali must have been in, to lose his son and mistress in one go.
She knew that despite all his flaws, Ali loved Lloyd, he adored that little boy with all his heart. And to have him just...disappear, never to hold him again, having to bury his tiny coffin, she didn't think anyone deserved to feel that much pain.
Layla sighed and slowly walked next to him. It took her a few seconds to gather enough courage to kneel down by his feet.
"Dinner's ready." She said, rubbing his knees, "You need to eat, Ali, you haven't eaten in twenty-four hours."
His piercing brown eyes only stared down at her indifferently, Layla couldn't find anything in them, they were just...blank, emotionless.
"Please, Ali, don't do this to yourself," she continued to plead, "Lloyd would've wanted his father to stay strong."
She sat on the arm of the chair. She took his ice cold hands and laid them on her stomach, smiling up at him.
"Our baby needs his or her father to stay strong." She continued.
"Go away." He finally replied firmly, "For your own good."
Layla shook her head and sat down in his lap, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him into a comforting hug.
"I don't want you to grieve alone, Ali." She whispered, "I'm here for you, our child is here for you."
"Layla, go away." He hissed in her ear.
"No, people stay with the people they care about during dark times." She insisted.
She pulled away and held his face with both of her hands, smiling at him in desperate hopes to comfort him.
He only stared at her indifferently, Layla felt a knot of anxiety twist up in her stomach up she ignored it and kept her smile taped to her lips. He was the father of her child after all, the least she could do for her own sake and for her baby's was to build a relationship with him that didn't involve abuse.
But as time went on, Layla began to struggle keeping the smile on her face with his glare scanned through her body. Her entire head swung to one side as his heavy hand swing against her face.
Disappointment accompanied the sore burning sensation from the slap poisoned Layla's hopes of him ever changing. He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her to her feet. Layla heard her own screams echo through the mansion as she tried to break free of his grip. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her head back so roughly that she was afraid her neck would snap.
"You wanted this, didn't you, you fucking whore!" He growled, "You're fucking relieved, you wanted my son dead!"
Layla shook her head tearfully, "I loved Lloyd, how could I?"
He threw her over the arm of the chair, his heavy arm dug into her spine as he held her down.
"Ali, you'll hurt our baby, stop!" She screamed in fear.
"I don't want to hear a word!"
Layla felt a cold hustle behind her as her black dress was lifted, her underwear torn and his jeans undone.
She dreaded the warm, horrifying sensation when he finally did enter her, tears of fear ran down her face, her nails dug into the cushion next to her, helping her fight back screams. She was shocked, Ali had the energy to violate her even when he buried his son only two weeks ago.
"Ali, please just let me get off the sofa, I swear I'll do whatever you want in our room, the arm might hurt our baby, please." She begged tearfully.
But she shouldn't have said that. In a flash, his hand was knotted in her hair and she was forced back to her feet.
"Do you understand fucking English?" He snarled at her.
"Ali, please don't hurt our baby, please the baby hasn't done anything, I'm begging you!"
But he was having none of it.
He dragged her out to the dinning room by her hair and with one push, he had her first slam against the table, knocking the bottle of vodka and glasses down. So much simultaneous pain attacked her body all at once, that it numbed itself out. But nothing could numb out the fear Layla felt for her baby. But before she could get up, he was right behind her, pushing her head down into the tablecloth.
"Why can't you just shut the fuck up?" He shouted.
He pulled her hair and slammed her head against the table.
Once, twice, three, four, five times.
She failed to fight back a scream at the sudden pain with each slam.
"Shut up! I don't want to hear your fucking screams, shut up!" He demanded.
"Please stop." Layla found herself pleading against her better judgement.
He dragged her by the hair, pulling the tablecloth, plates of food, glasses and bottles along with her, sending the glass shattering to the floor all around them. Layla felt the sharp bottom of his sneakers push her face into the tiles.
"Kiss my shoes and I'll stop." He bellowed.
He pulled her hair and forced her lips down on his sneakers.
"Lick my damn shoes if you want me to stop! Lick them like the damn whore you are!"
He picked her up and threw her on the floor, climbing on top of her. Layla could barely breathe with his heavy muscular weight on her.
"I said shut up!"
He flung punch after punch across her face.
With every punch, Layla's head would fling to one side, he would grab her hair and pull her to look back into his eyes before sending her flying back to another side with another punch. Layla felt her gums and teeth fail to wistand his strength, she could feel the warmth of her blood in her mouth.
"S-stop," she begged breathlessly, "for our baby, stop."
He smashed her head against the floor, Layla felt a ring of quick pain then numbness be sent through her whole head with every smash.
"I could just kill you right now!" He bellowed, "You wanted my son to die! You were jealous of him!"
Layla felt her warm blood drip from her nose onto her neck and the black and white floor tiles.
"S-stop. Y-you don't want y-your own child's b-blood...on y-your hands." Layla murmured.
Her vision was blurry, she struggled to keep her eyelids open, but she could feel his weight be lifted off of her chest, allowing her to regain her breath.
Layla's first instinct was to check down her legs for blood, relief ran over her, extinguishing all her pain. She was too busy eyeing her legs that she didn't notice his shoes throwing themselves at her stomach. The excruciating pain was so shocking that she couldn't even muster enough voice to scream.
The kick was followed by more to her ribs and stomach, Layla tried to push his feet away. Ali seemed a little startled by her sudden resistance and stopped for a moment. Her legs were numb and she could barely gather her thoughts from all the blows to her head. But instinctively, she hugged her stomach with both of her arms.
"NO! NO" she screamed, "YOU'VE TAKEN EVERYTHING, YOU WON'T TAKE MY BABY FROM ME!"
She saw Ali smirk through the blur of her eye.
If he couldn't kick her in the stomach, he would kick her in the head. He threw blows against her nose, mouth, temples and ears, going down to kick her even harder in the shoulders and neck. With some of the kicks, Layla could swear she felt something crack in her chest. She gasped desperately for air between every kick, soon excruciating pain turned into numbness.
It was an eternity before Layla finally felt his blows stop.
He knelt by her side and whispered, "You're lucky I'm merciful enough to let you live, fucking whore."
Layla barely heard his footsteps echo down and the glass front door slam shut. Layla forced her eyes open and was met with horror.
Her legs were dripping in blood.
No, no, no, no, no!
She couldn't lose her child, not yet, not now, she couldn't lose the one piece of light she had in her life.
She couldn't think properly, everything around her blurred and smudged against each other, but she could see a red smudge across the floor, it was blood from her own nose, mouth and womb smeared across the black and white tiles.
She mustered up all her energy to force herself to slightly sit up but she almost immediately broke out in violent coughs. Every cough felt like another blow being delivered against her ribs, she saw fresh blood smear across the floor with every cough.
She needed help, she remembered leaving her phone on the table. But she knew it must have fallen out with the rest of the things when Ali dragged her to the floor. With only one tenth of her blurry vision and almost no strength left in her, Layla swept her hand across the floor in search of her phone. She wanted to collapse and let herself slip away, put an end to this miserable existence but she knew she couldn't. If she died, her child would too, what fault did her baby have? Why should she take away his or her chance of being born and being happy?
She had to fight, to keep going not for her sake but her baby's.
Finally, her hand hit the cold texture of her phone, she quickly grabbed it and unlocked it. All her contact names were nothing more than white airbrushed smudges across her phone, feeling her body about to give ou, Layla clicked the first number in her recently contacted list.
"Hello" Layla heard Brian's voice pick up from the other end, "Layla?"
"H-help." She could barely speak, every word felt like a stab to her burning throat.
"Layla? Layla, are you okay? Where are you?" Brian asked.
"I-I'm going to...die...m-my baby's g-gonna die."
"Layla, where are you?" Brian repeated.
"H-h-home." Was the last word Layla muttered before exhaustion won over.
She heard the phone drop to the floor in a clutter but couldn't see anything anymore, everything went dark.
The last thought to cross her mind was begging God that Brian would be there in time. But like always, it seemed that all odds were against her.