One Shot Collection

Love Hurts

Trigger Warning: This piece revolves around domestic violence. If this topic is upsetting for you please don't read.

It was his OCD, you see. It made him vicious. Or maybe he had always been violent, the OCD was just a trigger or cover. Anyway, I did my best, I tried to follow his rules. 'Only step on these parts of the floor,' It was like playing 'the floor is lava' without the safety of a couch. But sometimes I would slip up or do something that he hadn't told me not to do. That is when he would flip. First he would freeze, every muscle locking as his rage built then slowly he would turn to me. Not a word, nothing. An explosion of movement and his hands would grasp my arms. And then the shaking began. He would shake me so hard I could feel my bones strain against their sinews. He wouldn't stop until he knew he had shaken the breath from me. He would dump me on the floor sobbing.

They were the good days, the lucky days. The bad days, well, on the bad days he would turn around and smack me across the face. My crying always got on his nerves. He would drag me to the airing cupboard and lock me in. I never understood that. He could hit me, beat me, call me al the names under the sun but tears? No, he couldn't deal with that. he couldn't face that. My tears seemed to be too real, a judgement of his actions and who was I to judge him?

Of course, he would calm down, he would kiss my bruises and tell me he loved me. And ha is how it was. I love you, smack! You're my world, shake! You're so beautiful, Whore!

Stupid girl! Why didn't you leave him? That is what you are thinking. And i guess i can't make excuses. But, well, he was my first love. I was deluded, my moral beaten down, my power stripped. All I could do was tell myself pretty lies. I was deluded, he could do no wrong and i was always at fault. i knew no better, 'Love hurts,' is the saying. Yeah, well, be more specific with that phrase because i don't think that saying covers trying to cover bruises with concealer.

In all honesty, I wanted to leave. I wanted to run and hide but I didn't know how. I didn't know how to break up with him. I didn't know that it was aloud. to him it was just meaningless words. I was his possession. Me leaving was as absurd as the toaster getting up and walking out.

But now i do, now i have the choice, the options, the power. Knowone will touch me if i don't want them too. If they hit, i will hit back. Because i don't want to be, No! i refuse to be that scared little girl crying in a dark cupboard ever again.