Short stories

#11

 She hears the front door slam as he leaves, but doesn't move from her spot on her bedroom floor right away. Her hand slowly reaches up to wipe away the small drop of blood that drips from the fresh cut on her cheek, one of his rings had nicked it when he had struck her. Finally, she pulls herself from the floor and makes her way into her ensuite bathroom, finding herself staring into the mirror. The fresh bruises on her skin mingling with the already healing ones, a reminder of the broken promise he had made that this would never happen again. He was just stressed and angry and he was so sorry for taking it out on her. The pain coursing through her body almost becoming unbearable, she sits on the edge of her bathtub. Suddenly, as if a dam had broken behind her eyes, tears rolled down her cheeks in waves and sobs were ripped from her chest as the full weight of the situation hit her. The man she had married had become a monster. Before she could change her mind, her legs carried her to her closet where she began packing her things. For a second she contemplated staying. Maybe this was the last time. Maybe she deserved it this time. With a shake of her head, she came to her senses. She packs as much of her things as she can and begins to load her bags into her car. With one last look at her home, she comes to a realization. A realization that loving him had become a losing game.