The Abnormality Of The Normality

'2 spoonful's of gloop, 1 sip of water'

I stay awake throughout the rest of the night, too afraid to sleep. As the sun begins to shine through the window there's a knock at the door before Jack enters. I turn my face away. "honey, look at me. Please." I turn to look at him as requested, meeting his eyes with my own. "oh, god. I am so sorry baby" Tears threaten to destruct his weakening structure before me. He reaches across and unties the scarf drenched in blood. It feels good to be able to breath properly again. I watch as he takes a needle and thread out of his pocket. I wince as he sews up the gash on the side of my face. I feel like I am going to pass out. I can't remember the last time I had something decent to eat. With that my stomach lets out a large grumble. "Hungry?" he asks. I just nod in response. With that he walks out. I can hear him faintly running around the kitchen downstairs.

In a matter of minutes, he has returned with a fresh bowl of gloop. He spoons it to me a mouthful at a time. It tastes rather bland. The thick food sticks to the back of my throat so he passes a glass of water to my lips. I sip the cold liquid ignoring the odd taste yet again. We continue in this process for the next 10 minutes. 2 spoonful's of gloop, 1 sip of water. I feel my eyes begin to get heavy again. I suddenly feel exhausted. Not sleeping must have really had its toll on me. I allow my eyes to close and within minutes I have fallen into a deep sleep.

I don't hear the front door slam shut an hour later, or the car starting up. I don't hear the vehicle pull up outside or the doorbell ring a little while later. I don't hear the sweet voice calling my name through the letterbox. I don't hear the car drive away. I don't hear the return of Jack hours later.

I am awoken by a very drunk and angry Jack stumbling into the room. I jump as he enters, walking into the minimalist furniture in the room. He makes his way over to the bed where I lay helpless. A loud slap echoes around the room as his hand meets my face. Tears begin to fall down my face as my face begins to sting. I make the mistake of turning my face away from him. "Look at me" his voice slurred. I scrunch my eyes up wishing to wake up from this nightmare I am stuck in. "I said look at me!" he barks, spraying me with saliva. Again, I refuse to look. My breath is taken from me as his fist connects with my chest. One hit. Two hits. Three hits. I can't breath. My breath stuck in my throat as he continues to hit. I don't know how long it has been before the hitting stops. He leans down and forcibly kisses me, before muttering "slut" and leaving the room. My eyes were closed throughout the entire performance. I feel as if my whole body is on fire. I only open my eyes once I hear the lock of the door. I feel like weeping at what has just happened but no tears came. My chest aches when I take a deep breath so I try to keep my breathing as shallow as possible. The pain travelling through my body is unbearable and I find myself passing out from it.