If Only...(Scömìche)

Worse than ever

TRIGGER WARNING: RAPE, SELF HARM AND ABUSE

It’s been exactly a month since me and Michael began dating, and I definitely haven’t kept my promise to Kirstie. I thought I was falling in love with him. He kept telling me I was beautiful. He made me feel good. But when nobody was around, he hurt me. He kicked me and punched me, all on the torso and stomach and legs so it couldn’t be seen.  But I couldn’t tell Kirstie. I couldn’t leave him. He constantly told me he loved me. Manipulated me into staying with him. He told me that if I ever left him, he was going to kill himself. I tried to leave him once, he cut himself right there in front of me. I couldn’t live with myself if he killed himself, because it would be my fault. His family would be devastated, and it would be my fault. No, I just have to stay with him until he gets bored of me. But one thing is for sure, I definitely won’t have sex with him.

 “Do you want to stay over tonight? It’s Friday and Mum and Avi are going out for the night. I didn’t really want to go, I’m not into the same stuff.” Michael looks up at me and smiles, and I force a smile back at him. I don’t want to, because if we’re home alone then he will hurt me. But I know that if I say no, he will just hit me twice as much next time. It’s a game he has, and I appear to be losing.
“Sure! I left my pyjamas here last time so I’ll just ring my mum,” I pick up my phone and dial the number.

After having a long conversation with my mum about responsibility and using protection (she gives me the same speech every time I stay here), I put my phone down and lean back onto the bed.
“So, watcha wanna do?” He asks, just as Avi walks in.
“Hey man, mum asked what you guys want for dinner?”
“Tell her to make Spag bol. That’s what I want. That okay Mitch?”
“Actually I’m-“
“Perfect! Tell mum”
“Gluten free” I whisper under my breath. Learning some manners wouldn’t go amiss. Avi leaves the room and I hear his quick footsteps downstairs. I sigh in defeat and flop backwards onto his bed.
“Don’t you think that was a bit rude? ‘Tell her to make it, it’s what /I/ want?’” I say, putting extra emphasis on the I. He grabs my hand and pulls me up roughly, and a sharp intake of breath comes from my mouth.
“I’ll speak to my family however I want, it’s nothing to do with you, okay sweet cheeks?” He slaps my face playfully, but with a littlel too much force. Then he places a gentle kiss on my lips. I exhale quickly, used to  this now. His green eyes stare into mine.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers softly.
“You tell me that every time you see me. But thank you, regardless”
“It’s true. Mitch… I… I love you. A lot.” I tense slightly, like I do every time he tells me that. He’s waiting for me to say it back. I have to, because I know that if I don’t then he will hit me.
“Michael. I love you too. So much.” He kisses me, but it’s rough and forceful, not romantic like it should have been in this moment.

A little while later, his mum calls us down for dinner.
“Mitch, Avi told me you were gluten free, so I used a special recipe. I hope it’s okay!” I smile gratefully at both Avi and his mother.
“It smells delicious, Mrs Kaplan!”
“Well, dig in boys!” So we do. All four of us sit at the table, sharing random anecdotes and stories and stuff. After a while, Michael speaks up.
“Mitch, you didn’t tell me you were gluten free! Why did Avi know that about you and I didn’t?!” Avi glares at his brother for a couple of seconds.
“Well Michael, he tried to tell you earlier. If you took your head out of your own ass for a couple of seconds and tried this new thing called LISTENING then you might have noticed!”
“Avriel!” His mother raises her voice at him, and both him and Michael stare down at their food, ashamed.
“You didn’t try and tell me that, did you?” He asks me. I nod slowly.
“Actually, I did. You kind of interrupted me.”
“Oh.” He retorts angrily.

The rest of the meal continues in silence, a cloud of awkwardness hanging over the table. When we all finish, Avi and his mum carry the plates to the kitchen, and wash up. I get up to help, but Michael grabs my wrist and pulls me back down onto the chair. He still doesn’t say anything.
“Michael? Mitch? Avi and I are leaving now. We will see you in the morning. Okay?” Michael grumbles in response and I give a polite wave, not daring to pierce the silence between me and Michael.

As soon as the front door shuts, he grabs my wrist and literally /drags/ me upstairs.
“Ow, you’re hurting me. OW!” Still, he doesn’t let go. Doesn’t speak. Just holds tighter, until we reach his bedroom. Then he explodes.
“How DARE you lie in front of my family? You DIDN’T try to tell me that. You just want me to look bad in front of my mum, don’t you? DON’T YOU? And why did my BROTHER know before me? You’re seeing him aren’t you? You’re cheating on me with my own BROTHER? You’re a disgusting little slut. That’s why you won’t have sex with me isn’t it? Because you’re fucking my brother aren’t you? You’re a dirty whore! I thought you were MY boyfriend!” He punches me into the wall. I was already crying, shrinking back into myself and away from Michael. But he punches me and I hit the wall. Hard. I scream in pain.
“Shut up you baby. This is what cheating sluts get!”
“I didn’t cheat on you! Michael please stop. I love you! I didn’t cheat. Please!” But he punches me again. Then he grabs me by my hair and pulls me up, before throwing me onto his bed.
“I’ll show you who you belong to” And he kisses me forcefully.
My mum always warned me to be careful with boys. I told her not to worry. I always thought I could handle myself in situations like this, just kick him where it hurts and run. But I can’t. I‘m completely frozen, paralysed with fear. I could fear the tears pouring out of my eyes as I beg him to stop, but he doesn’t. He pulls my clothes off quickly as he kisses my neck.
“Stop” I whisper, but he digs his nails into my ribs.
“Shut the fuck up and take it like the good little whore you are”
I wanted my first time to be special.
I didn’t want it to be like this.
As soon as he takes my pants off he thrusts into me. I scream in pain, he didn’t stretch me first, didn’t take any precautions on himself, like lube or a condom. Just went straight in. I scream again.
“You like that, don’t you?” I shake my head and swallow audibly.
“Please stop. It- it hurts. Stop.” Finally, he slows down and I push him off me.
“Now you know who you belong to,” He places his hands on my naked thighs and tries to kiss my forehead, but I turn away and stand up. A searing pain shoots up my entire back and I cower over, still whimpering. Quickly, I throw my clothes on and try and exit the bedroom, but he comes up behind me and pins my hands to the wall.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He spits in my face.
“Home. Please- please let me go home.” His foot reaches backwards and then connects with my shin. My knees give way beneath me, and I fall to the ground, sobbing as the pain in my lower back gets worse and the bruises feel like bullets in my skin.
“You want to go home? Fine. I thought you loved me but fine. But you need to see this before you leave” He grabs a box from his bedside drawer, and from inside it he pulls a small metal object. A blade.
“Michael, no!” He presses the blade to his skin and drags it upwards.
“I thought you loved me. This? This is for you!” He traces the deep wound with his finger, the blood pouring out quickly. He wipes it on my face with his hand.
“You did this to me, Mitch. This was all you.” Then he pulls his sleeve back down and puts the blade back in the draw. I sob and sob, I’ve never seen him this crazy before. He pulls me up by my neck and I feel myself choking in his grasp. He drags me to the landing.
“Go home then. And remember who that blood on your face belongs to!” Then he throws me down the stairs. He doesn’t push me. He throws me. I scream again, everything is going hazy. My body can’t take this amount of pain. I feel like I’m being stabbed constantly, and I can’t feel my body. I drag myself up, a pain shooting up my leg. It doesn’t feel broken though. Just sprained. I can walk on it, which saves me a trip to the hospital, although it hurts like I’ve never felt before. I drag myself out of the house and down the road, crying, limping and covered in blood. I probably look crazy, but I’m too hurt to care. My vision begins to go blurry, and soon I feel my body hitting the ground. The last thing I remember dong is calling Kirstie, before it starts to go black.

I'm thinking about making Michael someone with an actual undiagnosed/unrecognised mental disorder? I don't know...comment where you think this story should head in the next few chapters.

Do you think this was written okay? I've never really written anything of this nature before, only mildly on my account on fanfiction.net. SO let me know!

Thank you guys very much for reading!
Stay classy.

Love always,

Georgie