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“Did you fucking hear me?!” he snaps and grabs me by the chin.
With a hard jerk, he brings my face close to his.
I’m already staring at him, but he wants more control.
And that’s the funny thing, isn’t it?
If someone was looking in from the outside, watching him and what he’s doing, they might see a man so angry he can’t control himself.
They might even excuse him for it.
But he’s in control the entire time.
He could stop if he wanted to. In the past, when an officer showed up at the door, called by a concerned neighbor, he has stopped.
If anything, he does this because he wants more control over me. He wants to bully me into submission.
My own fury begins to boil inside my stomach and it’s everything I can do not to snap back at him.
As his hot breath puffs against my nose, I’d love nothing more than to tell him what I really think of him.
That he’s a fucking pathetic excuse for a man.
That I hate his fucking guts and wish I never met him.
That I hope one day he gets to experience what I’m experiencing. That someone bigger and stronger terrorizes him and makes him feel weak, pathetic, and helpless.
But, unlike him, I don’t have the physical strength to back up my words.
Knowing the second I start to really speak my mind, he starts punching, I grind my teeth together and bite the inside of my cheek.
Digging his fingers into my jawbone so hard he’ll leave bruises, he grinds out, “So that’s it? You’re going to accuse me of shit then not say anything when I defend myself, huh?”
When I still refuse to answer him, he seems to finally snap.
Yanking my chin side to side, he bellows, “Fucking answer me, goddammit!”
He yanks me so hard a muscle in my neck screams in protest, causing me to break my silence.
A little cry slips out of my mouth, and the second it touches my ears I know it’s my undoing.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I brace myself for what’s to come almost in acceptance.
The first punch always hurts the worst.
But it’s not the physical pain that brings me to my knees.
It’s the blow to my soul.
It’s the utterviolationof it.
I remember the first time he hit me. I’ll never forget what I felt.
It was like reality had violently shifted without my permission.
One moment, I was living in a world where I believed the person I loved would never hurt me.
And the next, everything I’d been so certain of was crumbling in front of my eyes.
