Her Escape, His Safe Haven

Chapter 3- A Walk In The Park

I don't know why he does it. He doesn't drink, he doesn't do drugs, he doesn't have a stressful job. Usually there's a cause for men or women to break and do something this heinous. He has nothing. 

We live a comfortable life, we have a nice home, we never want for anything, yet he beats me. I think he actually despises me. I don't know what I did to make him do it, but it must have been bad. 

The only thing that could be a causing factor is maybe mom being away so often? He claims to really love her so maybe he just misses her all the time so he takes it out on me? I don't know, but he doesn't lay a hand on me when she's around. Unfortunately she's never around. Maybe she hates me too. It would make sense. If I'm as bad as he claims I am, I would hate to be around me too. I do hate to be around me sometimes.

At least she doesn't lay hands on me though. That automatically makes her the better parent. Obviously. I wouldn't really say I even have parents though. I have a tormentor and a disappearing act. Yay me. (Note the sarcasm)

I have a place I go to when he's beating me. I escape into my mind and either run through dances I already know or I choreograph. I can pretend that the pain I'm feeling is from using my muscles to fulfill the expected moves or sometimes I have to imagine that I've fallen if the pain is too much. It's my escape.

I will forever be grateful for dance for giving me this ability. The ability to pull myself out of my own situation and hide in my mind surrounded by nothing but graceful movement and music. I can shut him out and pretend he doesn't exist. Pretend that he doesn't use me as his stress reliever or his anger management device.

I'm there now. I'm thinking through a possible dance to 'Lay Me Down' by Sam Smith with John Legend. I love that version of the song so I know every single beat and note. That makes it easy to come up with a dance. I just reached the bridge of the song where I imagined doing some fouette turns  when I was brought back to reality by an intense pain in my hip. He had kicked me in the exact place he did yesterday. I threw my hand over my mouth to force back the scream threatening to escape between my lips. He smirked evilly as he had finally gotten a response out of me and took it as his cue to leave. 

I reached up to the shelving unit in the hallway and used it to help me get up. He mostly kicks or hits me from the waist down. I don't know why he would leave marks if he doesn't want anyone to figure it out. Maybe he believes everyone looks at me the way he does. With nothing but disdain, so they don't question what could be causing my pain. 

If anyone does question it though, I always use dance  as my excuse. It's easy, I tell them I fell. Or we have new floor work and I'm still figuring it out. Mention to someone that you're clumsy or make pretty much any self deprecating comment and they'll get uncomfortable and change the topic. 

Truthfully, I don't think the man knows I even dance. If he knew he's probably make me stop or something. I don't do anything to hide my activities, he just doesn't pay enough attention to notice that I have something that brings me joy. 

I could feel the tears running down my face as all of the pain from his beating has finally hit me. I felt a shaky breath wrack through my body as I took a few steps. I made it into my room and went straight to my window to close the curtain just in case Elliot was in his room. I then slowly peeled off my clothes to examine the new bruises.

Great, now I am going to have to wear long leggings to dance tomorrow. I was really getting used to being able to wear my spandex. I noticed a huge bruise forming on the side of my right thigh and another on my knee. It was swelling already. I swear if he messed me up to where I can't dance anymore I'm not going to stay silent anymore. Dance is all I have and is he takes that from me, I won't be that obedient girl he has trained me to be. I won't.