Teachers Pet

twenty-four

Chris had in fact been true to his word, his office issues had kept him late. Exactly four and a half hours after the office closed. I was now impatiently sitting in the dining room, a full platter of chicken alfredo I had cooked now sitting cold. The steam was no longer billowing and the noodles had crusted over. 

A slam from the front caught my attention, making me look up to see him stumbling through the door. "Speak of the devil." I dropped my fork, the metal clanging against the ceramic plate. 

Chris scoffed, wobbling over to the fridge as he grasped a cold beer in his hands. I felt the rage rising as I marched toward him, "I think you've had enough-"

But before I could yank the beverage from his hand, he grabbed my arm in his palm; holding it tightly. "Chris." I spoke sternly, "You're already drunk." 

He chuckled, squeezing my forearm in his grasp, "And you aren't drunk enough." Without warning, he slammed the bottle into the countertop and grabbed my chin; forcing the rancid liquid down my throat. I coughed, attempting to push his body away but he towered over me with sudden concentration. I could feel his hand pressing in harder on my throat and the way he was shoving the broken bottle past my lips made my mouth ache. 

I wanted to close my eyes but I was stuck, looking up and seeing his once light blue eyes glaring down at me with an anger I'd never felt before. 

"Mgghm!" Chris let up, finally pulling the bottle away as I fell to the ground, coughing: like I had smoked three packs of cigarettes a day for thirty years. I didn't want to look him in the eye. I couldn't. He was never like this when he got drunk years ago. Sure, he got handsy and was always a little agitated, but never violent. 

He flung the bottle down, smashing it against the hard floor and right next to my left leg. My head shot up as I felt what was left of the beer soaking my jeans, which wasn't much. "There," Chris nodded, "Now clean this shit up." Without another word, he walked away; mumbling as I sat there in shock. 

My hands felt too heavy under my body. My head was killing me and I could feel something dripping down my chin. Bringing my hand up and pulling it back, I could see the dark red blood leaking from my split lip. Right where the broken bottle rim had been pushed.

I let myself fall entirely onto the floor, holding the back of my hand against my mouth as I muffled my sobs. My chest felt like it was caving in, every nerve ending in my body giving up like a wilted flower in the winter. My throat was raw, burning every time I swallowed. I could feel the broken glass digging into the bottom of my leg, like tiny pin needles tickling painfully. I shook my head, wiping the tears away as they mixed with the blood on my hand. 

Standing up with all the energy I could muster, I limped over to the pantry and grabbed the broom. I knew I should walk out, and stand my ground. But Chris was already drunk, I couldn't make it worse. 

Placing the dustpan on the floor, I could hear the small shards clinking together as I swept them into the plastic container. Stumbling back to the trash bin, I shook them in, next grabbing a rag and running it under the sink. The hot water soaked into the fabric as I added some dish soap to the mix. 

Softly landing on my knees, I washed away the beer from the floor, the only sound being the sniffles every time I would wipe my nose. I couldn't cry. I wouldn't let him hear me cry. 

"Viviana!!" I jumped at the sound of Chris yelling my name. Hastily wiping the rest from the ground, I jumped up and threw the rag into the trash. The glass and blood make it impossible to wash out. "Yes?" I walked, well limped, into the back bedroom seeing Chris sitting on the bed with his head dropped in his hands. He looked up, his once angry eyes now disguised with sorrow. 

He lifted his hand, motioning for me to come. Walking over slowly, he grasped my hand softly in his, pulling my body into his lap. Both of my legs wrapped around his waist as he rubbed his hands up and down my waist. "I'm sorry, baby."

I closed my eyes, a tear slipping down my cheek and onto Chris's thumb that rested on my jaw. He dropped his head in the crook of my neck, breathing in my scent. I stifled another sob, my body shaking in trembles as he wrapped his arms around me. I started to gently push my fists into his chest, finally breaking the hold he had. "Baby?"

I shook my head, "No." Stumbling into the bathroom, I switched on the light, finally looking at myself in the mirror. My hair was tangled, tucked behind my ears. Blood still dripped from my chin and a bruise was already starting to form on my neck. I let a whimpering noise out, not wanting him to hear me crying so vulnerable. 

Kneeling down, I opened the cabinet and pulled out the things I needed. Alcohol astringent, cotton rounds, and a couple of bandaids. I sat down on the closed toilet seat, adjusting a small mirror on the counter so I could see what I was doing. Flicking the cap open on the bottle, I poured a small amount onto the cotton ball. I took a deep breath, holding it to my face as a stinging sensation made me wince. I could feel it cleaning the wound, boiling together with the blood. 

Wiping the rest away, there was only a small cut left over, making me thankful makeup would cover it the next day. I stood, unbuttoning my jeans and dropping them to the floor. Sitting back down, I inspected my leg- looking at the shards of glass still stuck in my skin. 

They hadn't gone deep, allowing me to get them out with a small pair of tweezers. I pulled the last shard out, dropping it into the trashcan and bandaging the remaining open wounds. 

"Baby?" Chris spoke through the door, attempting to turn the knob only to find I locked it. "Babe, you okay?" I shook my head, lowering myself down until both my knees pressed against my ears. Holding my legs with my arms, my head tucked snuggly between. 

"Baby, please come out." I silently refused, only the sound of my cries filling the spacious bathroom. I never wanted to leave. I wanted to sleep in the bathtub, crawl under the sink so I couldn't leave. Anything, just to distance myself from him. "Viv!" Chris raised his voice making me shoot up in fear. I wiped my face, attempting to collect myself. "Open the goddamn door Viviana!!" I gulped, standing up on shaky legs and turning the metal knob. 

His eyes went from rage to disgust as he looked me up and down. "You're such a baby." He scoffed, "Stop feeling sorry for yourself and get into bed. I have to be up early tomorrow." Without warning Chris smacked my ass making me jump out of my skin at the intrusion. I wrapped my right arm around my middle, following behind as he pulled me into our shared bedroom. 

He closed the door behind me, pulling off his shirt and dropping his pants in the process. I felt my heart start to race as he turned, immediately going to grasp at my shirt. I shook my head, backing away and pulling my clothes down further. "Seriously?" Chris raised one eyebrow, "You're gonna be a prude because of that small little incident?" My brows furrowed at how horrible he was being. I had patched myself up by myself, cleaned the kitchen. All because of his so-called 'little incident.'

He went to reach for the hem of my long sleeved shirt once again only for me to smack his hand away. "Yes, seriously." 

Chris scoffed, about to get into bed until he forcefully grabbed my hair, throwing me onto the matresss with one pull. I screamed out in pain, feeling the burn at my scalp spreading across my head. "Fuck!" I shouted, feeling him release his grip. I scurried to the other side, seeing him stumble slightly as he crawled toward me. 

Grasping my ankle with bruising force, he pulled me down under him with a drunk smirk. "Be a good girl and don't make a sound." I could feel his hands spreading down my thighs, pulling my jeans off as well as my shirt. I kept my eyes closed tightly, only the sounds of him grunting filling our quiet bedroom. I refused to make noise, I wouldn't let him know he won. 

And yet in the midst of everything. The beer, the split lip and ripped jeans. I had a feeling this was only the beginning. 

_

A/N: I'm back! I know this was a heavy one and trigger warning for future chapters, It might get worse. But don't worry! Tom will be coming back into the picture!

Most of this is based off my own abusive relationship I was able to escape two years ago. Those kinds of scars stay with you and writing about it helps for some reason. 

Thankyou guys for reading!! Don't forget to vote and leave comments!!