His hand caught the side of my face slamming my head against the wall.
I remembered those LIFETIME movies I used to watch with my mom. I would always flinch when he hit the girl. Now I felt nothing, nothing but empty.
I felt the coolness of tears on my face as his hands grabbed my shoulders, "How's that for an explanation bitch?" He said in a low voice.
I just looked at him, unsure of whether or not I was supposed to answer. His hand caught my mouth this time, I tasted blood in my mouth.
"I said.. hows that for an explaination.... bitch..?"
"It's good.. I understand.." i said in a tear filled voice. *Why do I always have to cry?* i asked myself for the millionth time.
"What a fucking baby." He muttered, "It makes me sick to look at you." He strode to the door, "Don't leave. I'm not done with you yet." The door slammed and I curled into a fetal position on the floor. Sobbing my thumb slid into my mouth as I closed my eyes tightly. I prayed he wouldn't come back. In all honesty I didn't think of getting up.
Those LIFETIME movies are accurate, you don't think of disobeying him. You live to listen.
He kicked me in the ribs, "Get up." I scrambled to my feet, looking down at my shirt I saw that it had torn. As he threw me into the wall I closed my eyes.
And I floated.. I floated where I could see it all, and pity the girl in the torn shirt with the bleeding mouth.
Why doesn't she run?
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