Wishing I Could Save Myself from a Life I Despise: My Shadowed Life Series

Chapter 4: What Else Would I do, Burn the Books

Here is chap 4...

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Chapter 4: What Else Would I do, Burn  the Books

I searched the medicine cabinet for something, anything to ease my pain but found nothing. Not an aspirin, not cough syrup, not even a razor for shaving was in sight. After my first attempt at ending my life, my father and Chester had removed all sharp objects from the houses. Never again would I see a knife, a pair of scissors, a razor or even a real mirror. The mirrors were replaced with those shinny metal fake ones, and as for shaving my legs… electric was the way to go from then on.

All medications were now locked in a storage box with the key hidden on Chester or my sorry excuse for a dad at all times. That was my punishment for my second serious attempt. There had been other unsuccessful ones as well. They were just less noticeable and unknown to my ‘masters’.

There was the time that I tried to drink myself into alcohol poisoning and death, but Ches just thought I wanted to get drunk and dirty with him. What fun that was when he interrupted my binge toward death and I found myself sick and puking the whole time we had sex, unwanted and forced sex for that matter. What a turn on right? If only he hadn’t stopped me, I may have accomplished my task. As it was I spent the next two days in a near coma, getting sick every hour on the hour. Guess my body and alcohol don’t mix. Wish I could say the same for my dad.

There was also the time that I decided to go on a hunger strike. I refused to eat to drink anything, only keeping up appearances for their sake so I wouldn’t be found out. It had been about 4 or 5 days and finally I passed out at school and was taken to the emergency room. I woke up to a very unhappy Gabe and he promised not to tell anyone about my failed attempt at taking my life. I think he knew it would have only landed me in more trouble, though he never admitted it. I am such a worthless failure. I can’t even kill myself right.

I put on my black sweats and a long sleeved white shirt to hide my hideous body from everyone, including myself. I walked to the bedroom and jumped into bed. I thought Chester was sleeping already, but much to my dismay, he was not. He pulled me closer to him and rolled me to face him. I winced in pain the whole time he moved me, but I never struggled. What would be the point?

“Trini love, I’m so sorry. Please forgive.” He asked in a quiet gentle tone. He softly stroked my bruised and battered face. When he was like this, it was what I loved about him. He was kind, loving and attentive. It was what drew me to him. It was why I fell in love with him. It was what kept me with him for the last five years. It was why I stayed with him after the first time, and the second, and the third time he hit me.

It’s too bad his calm, loving demeanor never lasted. It’s too bad he changed, or let his real self be revealed. It’s too bad that after the third time, it got worse, so much worse and all I had left was fear, for my life and those I loved, like Tristan. It’s too bad that he turned into a jealous, raving lunatic. Fuck my life! Could it have gotten any worse? I thought that answer was no, but that was before it all changed, yet again, for the worse, not the better.

“It’s okay Chester, it was my fault and I’m sorry.” I used my stock answer. I knew it was what he wanted from me, what he liked to hear. So I said it, even though it made me sick, so nauseous that I felt like vomiting right in his face.