Numb Pain

Chapter 1

THIS NOVEL INCLUDES SCENES OF A VIOLENT AND SEXUAL NATURE. YOU ARE NOT ADVISED TO READ THIS WITHOUT PARENTAL GUIDANCE OR KNOWLEDGE OF THE ISSUES INVOLVED. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Thank you for taking your time to read this story. It is a combined story between me and a friend. You can find us over at Twitter (JennaWalsh8 and itsokimanna) and deviantART (Dayinissa and BailanduSilueta). We would love for you to comment and leave some feedback!

We advise that readers should listen to the songs that have been posted alongside the chapters, to understand what we (as writers) felt whilst composing the chapter. Enjoy!

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I walk, taking great care in ensuring my legs are stable, even when they feel like jelly, to the front door. I guess you know there's something wrong with life when pounding nerves hit your stomach every time you have to go home. I can hide it during the day. It's easier to fake the smiles and force the laughter, yet dread always consumes me walking home to this every day of my laboured, limited life.

I love him. I think I love him. I used to love him. So many days and nights have gone past that I have forgotten what is real and what isn't. Nightmares merge with reality, and ultimately, I'm petrified of it all. Each morning only brings the promise of another hell, each night my only saviour is the final scream before I can close my eyes.

I place my trembling hand over the rusted, cold brass doorknob, shifting it quickly up and to the right, listening intently to the creak of the old hinge before the wood meets its frame with a crash behind me. As ever, he's there waiting for me, square jawline unmoving on his angular face, his blue eyes somehow glittering past his smouldering facade. I push on a smile and drop my bag to the floor. When all I get is a grimace in return, I know tonight is no different to any other night. I love him. I love him. I love him. If I tell myself enough, maybe I'll believe it.

"Hey honey...how was your day?" I keep my voice quiet so I don't show the obvious tremors ricocheting through it. He doesn't bother replying, but gestures towards the house's interior. It is a mess, probably from last night's battle. I don't remember much of it as it was one of the few nights that I was allowed to fall unconscious rather quickly. In my daze this morning, I hadn't even noticed the glass scattered over the carpet and the pictures on the walls lopsided. I peer behind the figure of my man, his chest beginning to enlarge as he struggles to contain his growing temper. Whiskey bottles line the counter, all drained of their contents and thrown to the side once they have become of no use. I avert my eyes back to my lover, his crystal orbs flaming. I make the mistake of locking eye contact with him, yet only for a split second. I hear him suck in a sharp breath and I know he's lost the fight with his inner demons.

He draws back his hand immediately. Before I have time to react, his palm is against my face, rushing against the flesh and bringing a sting to my cheek. It flames with the intensity of the blow, and I nail my feet to the ground before I allow myself to topple over. I brace myself, expecting the violence, and do not move. I can make this better. If I dont show him a reaction, maybe - just maybe - he'll stop.

I should've known better. His hand clasps the back of my ponytail as he thrusts my head to his, kissing me roughly. His lips bruise against mine and I feel the harshness of his breath laced with alcohol. There is no love. It is only satisfaction. It is only survival.

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Today is no different to any other day. I will still awake with new bruises adorning my skin, new tear stains intricately lined on my cheeks from crying late at night.

As I try to compel myself to sleep, I question how I even managed to drag myself to the bedroom last night. He had been surprisingly lenient tonight, which only made things worse. I would always be sat, waiting for his next move, waiting to run for the door. My nerves had been aware of the situation as I would jump at the sound of his voice breaking the silence, which would only make him snicker at my skittishness.

I can hear the soft drawls of his breathing as he sleeps soundly beside me. Night has crept upon us and this is the only time I can remember why I used to love him. Turning to face him, his brow is smooth without the usual creases that give him such a sour expression. A shadow has fallen across one side of his face, moonlight bathing the other half. The Jai I fell in love with wasn't a violent thug - he was my hero. His lips are soft under the moonlit glow, yet they haunt my nightmares. His face is peaceful and at ease, and I resist the urge to caress his cheek. I miss those days. The times where I could enjoy his company and not fear it. Feel butterflies each time he kissed me instead of nausea. This is not the man I fell in love with. This is a monster. My monster.

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I rise early with minimal sleep freshening my look. Violet circles hang beneath my eyes as I feel sickened at my reflection. A purple bruise has appeared on my face, another one to add to my collection. Another one to cover with makeup. I had never believed it when my mother told me he was a disaster waiting to happen, as he was the boy that I had fallen in love with. I had been completely intoxicated with him. I thought that I could change him, that with some love he would learn to love back.

Fortunately, he was still asleep as I was packing my small bag to leave for work. I had a job at the local bank, and it was my only reprieve. As I reach for the door handle, I glanc back at the bed to where my man lays, his black hair tousled against the pillows. How can he be so dangerous? With a sigh, I open the door and carry myself down the stairs, wearing my designated uniform and my face splashed with cosmetics. I am still pretending that he can change, that we can be a happy family like he used to tell me as we walked alongside the docks at such tender ages. And I had believed it back then. I still believe it now. It is my only glimmer of hope for happiness.