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Tuesday, 28 January 2014

One Night


Moving quickly, he slammed his fist into her face. Blood splattered everywhere, on both of them.

Sometimes she felt so full of emotion, she could feel it brim at her very edge, it’s colossal weight nearly buckling her knees.  Defiance would pounce forth shielding her, taunting  innocent passersby, provoking them in hope that they may react, and unleash the accumulated resentment tugging at her heart.

Rationality was a foreign word as her burning eyes whipped their damp lashes against her flushed cheeks. She anticipated the rage to accelerate, hard and fast- a catalyst to a potential tantrum; but it sat spineless, fizzling out, almost cold, as she desperately waited for something to happen. 

Nothing happened. The anger began to dissipate, now focusing on a calm, eerie, wave of misery. It washed right through her, chipping little pieces of her raw heart in the ebb and flow of its high tide. She ached. She felt lost. Panic made her chest thump and quake at every thought that pranced through her fleeting mind.She had stopped crying long ago. There was no one to hear her, and even given the remote possibility that there had been, she had run out of tears a long time ago.

She stiffened and shuddered at the pain which seemed to grip her whole body. She tried to  focus, but it was as if she was wandering through a dark tunnel with no way out. There was no light in this gloomy pit where answers seemed nonexistent. Soaked in pools of her own despair, she rubbed her face against the gritty wall, and the shock of pain as she hoped, made her stop frightening her self  for a split second. She had always believed, that the reality of pain wasn’t as bad as the morbid fear of it.

She stopped for a moment, and breathed in the cold air which stabbed her sharp in her heaving lungs.  A prisoner in the vast valleys of her loneliness, she was tired of  travelling in circles through mental labyrinths. She had lost all confidence,and convinced herself into believing that her cutting wounds were gaping crevices. Consumed by pure agony, her body had now contracted itself into a giant ball of concentrated grief. Barely conscious, her voice broke into a high pitch as a sob caught in her throat. 

Swallowing a whimper, she stumbled a couple steps forward, her brain racing with possibilities. He punched her again, looking down at her broken face with his black eyes.  Tears blurred her vision, stinging hard, as her toes curled in fury, and her pale fingers tightened into fists. She could taste something metal mingle with the saliva that travelled down her throbbing throat. Trying not to choke on her own blood swarming around in her mouth, she burrowed deeper, gathering the ripped material that hung off her battered hips.

He closed the door behind him, a wicked smile slowly creeping onto his coarse face. Instinctively she crossed her arms over her chest, but her eyes were now looking down. She felt too terrified to think, and too desperate to calm her self down. Her shaking arms dropped dead to their sides, as her feet rushed back in little, fumbled steps. He was much larger than her, but that did not matter now. Still smiling, his face now appeared frozen and humourless as he moved closer. She was petrified, but refused to panic.

He grabbed her hair as she reached out for the latch. With a loud crash, her head met the floor, streaking it crimson. Dazed and in a stupor, she felt his mouth pressed hard against her ear, as he kneeled over her, pressing all his weight against her. Rough hands cruelly prodded her like meat, poking, grasping, and punishing. With one hand around her neck, he effortlessly turned her limp body towards him, to stop her from slumping to the floor. She used her hands to push his shoulders, trying to shove him off, but he just thrust forward, killing her fight, right at the bud.

Her mouth was dry as cotton, and  her tongue felt as if it were swollen. She begged her body to relax, laying as still as possible while warm tears silently slid from beneath her swollen lids. She couldn’t see, she couldn’t smell- she had slammed her mind’s door shut on the depraved images that kept flashing in front of her. She focused on listening to her breathing, in and out, trying to thwart the hysteria that fogged her brain. She needed to stop feeling, turn off the pain, and anesthetize.

He panted like an animal into her face, as she screwed her eyes tight, shut, trying to block reality out.  She took another breath, slow and steady, wanting it all to stop, and everything to just blackout. She ignored the twinges of pain that clawed her gut, and the fading screams that racked her tiny frame. She opened her eyes slowly to see the moon shining abnormally large in the sky, as it crept over the horizon, peeking into a cloudy window. “Soon” she whispered to herself, “It will soon be over”.

3 comments:

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  2. You have come a long way. Love the descriptiveness. Love the open end. Love that there is no context, expands the frame. Suggest you take out the key word abuse too in the tag to make it even more dark and ambiguous. Love that there is no fairy tale but gritty realism. You show and do not tell and take me inside the character -excellent. And for old times sake : its high tide and a long time ago not it's high tide, and long time ago :P

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    1. Thank you very much Mr. Koshy! I have made the said changes, and always appreciate any, and all feedback from you. So keep it coming!

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