Pulse

Surprises

    Another three weeks pass. Asher calls daily. I ignore every single call. I delete every voicemail he leaves. I delete every text message he sends. I can tell he is getting desperate in his messages but I don't care. I am moving on with my life. I have something new in my life I need to focus on. Something that takes priority in my life. I tell myself daily that no matter how much I miss Asher, I need to remain strong. I will not let him break me.

    Pain shoots through my side. I am on the ground crawled into a ball.
"I said get up!" A booming voice laced with anger echoes through the room. I slowly but shakily start getting up. I am on my hands and knees about to push myself up when the belt comes down across my back, forcing me back onto the ground.
    I yelp out in pain, tears streaming down my face. I stay on the floor, afraid and not having the strength to move. The belt comes down and strikes me again, hitting my side.

"Stupid bitch." I lay there, waiting for the next blow. The belt comes down on my ribs, causing me to scream.

    I jolt up in bed, covered in sweat. My respirations are rapid and shallow as I look around the room. It was just a dream. He's not here. It was just a dream. I reassure myself. Ever since that night at work with Isabel, memories of my foster family have been returning to me. Almost every night I am having a nightmare about my past. Reliving every scar, every beating. As my breathing returns to normal, my stomach turns, bile rising. I am overcome with nausea.

    I throw the covers off of me and run into the bathroom where I make it just in time to empty the contents of my stomach. I am hugging the toilet bowl and dry heaving when I hear footsteps behind me.

"Baby. What's wrong?" I can hear concern and panic in his voice. Asher crouches beside me and places a hand on my back. He takes his other hand and wipes the hair off of my sweat covered face. I rest my head against the toilet seat, afraid if I speak more than words will come out of my mouth. I want to recoil at his touch, but I don't have the energy within me to fight him.

    Arms go under my legs and around my back. Asher picks  me up and carries me to the bedroom where he gently places me on the bed. My head lays on my pillow as I pull my covers up over me. My heavy eyelids drooping. Asher sits at the side of the bed staring at me. I close my eyes and try my best to ignore him, but I can feel his eyes on me, unsettling me. I don't have the energy to fight him, especially when I know I will lose the battle.

"Carson, baby. You've been driving me crazy. I've been worried sick about you. I've been trying to talk to you for weeks. Why have you been ignore-" Asher stops mid sentence. I wait for him to continue speaking, but he never does. Curiosity gets the best of me as I lift my head to look up to see what has caught his attention. My heart stops as I see what he is looking at, my stomach dropping. His eyes are focused on the black and white picture on my nightstand. Tears start streaming down my cheeks. With shaky hands he reaches out and pulls down my covers. His fingers slowly lift my oversized shirt, revealing my slightly rounded belly.

    Asher's eyebrows furrow and I see his jaw tighten. His voice is soft but firm. "Were you going to tell me?" I can hear the emotion and hurt in his voice. He keeps his gaze down, remaining on my stomach. His hand slowly comes towards me, his fingertips tracing my stomach. He lifts  his head and looks straight into my eyes, his hand never leaving my stomach. Sobs tear through my body, from both sadness and anger. My body begins shaking as I try to speak. "I'm so mad at you." My voice comes out as a whisper. Over the past several weeks I've thought of many things I wanted to say to him. To yell at him. But I can't remember any of them in the moment.  This is all I can manage saying.

    I see anger flash through Asher's eyes. "Mad at me? How the fuck could you be mad at me when you were the one keeping this from me!" I can  hear the anger and hurt in his voice.