Harry Anderson has been stuck in an abusive relationship for almost four years now. Having known Noah Carter since kindergarten, his boyfriend began drinking at 21 years old and began beating on him for no good reason. Harry's 25th birthday is arriv...
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□ Harry Anderson □ ~~~~~~~~~~ □ Aches and Pains □
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The beating from last night still hurts. Noah gets into a right old temper when he's drunk. The blood on my face is dry now, having turned to crust. My body is stiff, and it's somewhat difficult to move. I groan and wince as I try to stretch my arms and legs, regretting it immediately.
My chest is littered with fresh bruises from last night when I slide my shirt off to wash it along with my other bloodstained clothes. I take in a shaky breath as I gaze at my reflection in the mirror. My arms are covered with scars from being "punished," in Noah's words. Some of the reasons why he did were some of the most stupid I ever heard. But he never let me voice my opinion on the matter because that would result in a beating.
That's one of the many stupid reasons why Noah punishes me: Speaking out of turn. He also beats me whenever I talk to anyone without his permission. He freaks whenever I look at anyone. He drinks after he gets off work for the day, stumbles into the house, and flies into a drunken rage, taking it out on me. I'm his punching bag, but I'm too afraid to ever leave.
He's threatened to kill me if I ever packed my bags to go to a hotel or something. In his twisted little mind, he reaches the conclusion that I'm walking out on him. I'm too frightened of what he could do to even consider leaving. Besides, I have no other place to go. Noah is probably the only person who can take care of me in this whole damn town.
I take my laundry to the washing machine, making sure that every bit of clothing makes it in. I grabbed a robe from the bathroom I shared with Noah and put it on after I put my old clothes into the washing machine. I set up the dials and leave the laundry room after I know the clothes are being washed. I go to take a shower and get the dry blood off. It's a bad idea because of the washing machine running, but it's the best idea I have right now.
The warm water helps me relax as I use some body wash to clean myself up. The recent scars smart and hate the soapy bubbles, but this will help me out. I think a shower is what I needed. I shut my eyes and take a deep breath. I just need to focus on the good memories of Noah, and I'll be able to get through the day.
