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Sometimes my body. Sometimes my heart. And other times, my mind.
He played me masterfully. He knew every button to push that would lead me over the edge, hanging over the cliff, falling yet not reaching the bottom.
Hurting but not dying.
Tears but no sound.
Everything was silent in my world. Silent and dark.
Sometimes, I wished he would kill me. Death would be easier, but funnily, I was scared of death.
So I fought for each breath I took. It was a battle I won every day he would come into our bedroom.
My body might not have been numb to his games, but my heart was.
It was unfeeling.
My heart would beat to a rhythm. Thump thump. Thump thump.
I was alive. But that was all.
Just breathing. My heart just beating.
He molded me, creating a shell out of a living person. One who once knew how to laugh, smile, and talk. But now…while looking inside, you would find it empty. A dark pit of emptiness that would lead you to a road map of nowhere.
From the corner of my eyes, I saw his feet coming closer. One step at a time. One step closer with each passing second.
Thump thump. Thump thump.
My heart continued beating. I inhaled. I exhaled.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Another step forward. Another step closer to me.
Another step that reminded me of my lack of freedom.
Freedom.
A foreign word to someone who had none. It held such little power to those who had it. But to the ones who didn’t, it was something we could only dream of. A wish made to a flying star in the darkness of the night.
To us, it was only a fading hope.
He paused at my chair, waiting, soundless. Always silent.
In some ways, that was my power. My hidden strength. One he couldn’t take away from me.
The silence was my gift.
Once upon a time, I hated it. And now, I reveled in it.
I stayed still, my fingers still wrapped around the knitting cloth and needle. My eyes stayed fixated on the window, watching the blue sky, a beautiful sight that reminded me of what I had lost.
The clouds moved just as the seconds ticked by. The sun shined, casting the breathtaking glow around the lands.
In some parts of the world, some people were enjoying the sun. Loving it. Praising it.
Other parts, we were trapped inside with just a glimpse of it. It was not ours to feel and breathe in.
His movement caught my eyes again. He moved away from my chair, walking toward the bed. Closing my eyes, I continued to breathe.
Thump thump. Thump thump.
I counted the seconds in my head.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
Five seconds was all he gave me. Five seconds to prepare myself. Five seconds to wish for my death. Only in those five seconds I always wished for my end.
But as soon as those five seconds were over, the steel cage around my heart came back up, folding and molding. Protecting me in the only way it knew how.
My five seconds were over.
It was time for his entertainment and my ruination.
Standing up, firm, stiff, and poised, just like I had been taught, I placed my knitting materials on the chair.
Shoulders back, head up but eyes cast down, I walked toward him.
My thoughts flew elsewhere. Like always. Like right now. My gaze tracked the floor, and I was thinking how ugly the carpet was. It was brown, and the woven wool was almost coming apart. I dug my toes into it, feeling its softness on my bare skin.
It was a lesson learned.
Sometimes, the ugliness in the world could bring softness and gentleness.
Other times, the most beautiful and captivating thing could bring pain and tears.
Something we all needed to remember but always forgot. A long time ago, I forgot too. I fell into a dark trap by a beautiful, captivating thing.
When my feet finally came a stop, I closed my eyes for a brief second. A sharp pain in my ankle brought me to my knees.
A reminder to kneel down. So I knelt down with my thighs slightly spread apart.
My eyes opened at the feel of his feet pushing my legs wider. I did as I was silently commanded.
Always listen, even when the words are not uttered. Always listen, so it will hurt less.
My mother had whispered into my ear before. The last time I had seen her.
At first, the words were forgotten. And now, those words were my mantra to staying alive.
A small tap on my head brought my eyes up to meet his aging ones. Dark brown eyes with deep wrinkles around them, a sign that he was getting older. Already old.
My gaze traveled south, wanting to escape the sight but couldn’t. When my eyes landed on his lips, I waited.
He waited too, dragging out the suspense. Forcing me to feel it. Little did he know that I had mastered this game.
