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Description
The linoleum is cold against my cheek. It's been ten minutes since he left, yet I still haven't moved. I'm still there, my body curled, clutching my sides. My eyes hurt from sobbing. The left side of my face is tingling, possibly from the swelling. My lips still taste like blood. I really hope I won't need stiches, again...

- -

I'm not sure what set him off this time, but I can only assume that his game irritated him. It was 2am and I was exhausted. I had fallen asleep watching him play Downpour. I felt his body heat against my back when he got into bed, his hand reached over and pulled at my pajama pants. I felt the scruff on his chin as he tried kissing my neck.

I shifted my body and mumbled, "Not tonight, please?" I heard him chuckle as he ignored me, reaching for me again. I grabbed his hand, gently pushed it aside and once more told him no.

"Please, I'm really tired. My body is drained." His face gave me the look of aggravation.

"Well, I'm not having the best night either, but I always make time for you," he said. I turned over, covering my face in the blankets. "Are you hiding something from me?" he asked. I rolled my eyes.

"No. I'm tired. I just want to sleep. That's all."

That's when I felt the quick jab of his knuckles and the sharp pain as they collided with my ribcage. His fingernails buried deep into my shoulders as he suddenly pushed me onto my back.

"You never want to do anything!" he growled. "Never! Just simple intimacy is all I ask!"

I'm shaking, tears filling up my eyes. I can't speak because of the pain. One hand is holding my side while the other is trying to push him off of me. This only angers him more. He pushes all of his weight onto my chest. The air escapes my lungs. My heart is racing. I'm terrified.

"Are you cheating on me?! Is that it?!" he barks. I tell him no over and over between sobs. I push against him to no avail. He pulls my shirt collar so hard, it rips.

"Show me! Let me check you for marks!" He pulls the fabric, tearing it. I scream out, flailing my hands trying to stop him or hit him. He slaps me across the face and proceeds ripping off my shirt. He holds my head against the pillow, checking my neck and chest for evidence.

My hands blindly reach to try to stop him, but he encages both my wrists in one hand and pulls me, turning me onto my stomach. I screamed as he grabs a fistful of my hair and shoves me into the bed. I try fighting against him, but he's too quick and strong. His nails dig into my lower back as he yanks my pants down.

I panic, trying desperately to breathe, trying to kick him off of me. I try to call out, but I know that no one can hear me.

Then, I feel him push into me. I feel my flesh ripping, my cries and screams muffled by the pillows. Each thrust is more painful and a metallic scent in the air tells me I'm bleeding. I stop fighting. I'm lightheaded. I'm either about to pass out or die. I silently hope for the latter.

It feels like an eternity has gone by, but with a final push, he stops and collapses on me. His breath is hot on my shoulder blades. He lets go of my hair. I don't move. He climbs off me and I hear him put his jeans on as he clears his throat. What happens next terrifies me the most.

He puts his hands under me and picks me up like a small child, cradling me against his chest. I don't do or say anything when he enters the bathroom. He sits me on the edge of the tub and runs the water, tossing in a washcloth.

He walks to the door, but he never turns to look at me. His voice is cold. "Wash up. I'm going get cigarettes." He leaves.

I stand up and look at myself in the mirror. My lips is bleeding from a small cut. My face is red, a very visible hand print is seen. I can't hold myself up. My legs turn to jello. I fall to the floor and curl up and just cry.

Description
The linoleum is cold against my cheek. It's been ten minutes since he left, yet I still haven't moved. I'm still there, my body curled, clutching my sides. My eyes hurt from sobbing. The left side of my face is tingling, possibly from the swelling. My lips still taste like blood. I really hope I won't need stiches, again...

- -

I'm not sure what set him off this time, but I can only assume that his game irritated him. It was 2am and I was exhausted. I had fallen asleep watching him play Downpour. I felt his body heat against my back when he got into bed, his hand reached over and pulled at my pajama pants. I felt the scruff on his chin as he tried kissing my neck.

I shifted my body and mumbled, "Not tonight, please?" I heard him chuckle as he ignored me, reaching for me again. I grabbed his hand, gently pushed it aside and once more told him no.

"Please, I'm really tired. My body is drained." His face gave me the look of aggravation.

"Well, I'm not having the best night either, but I always make time for you," he said. I turned over, covering my face in the blankets. "Are you hiding something from me?" he asked. I rolled my eyes.

"No. I'm tired. I just want to sleep. That's all."

That's when I felt the quick jab of his knuckles and the sharp pain as they collided with my ribcage. His fingernails buried deep into my shoulders as he suddenly pushed me onto my back.

"You never want to do anything!" he growled. "Never! Just simple intimacy is all I ask!"

I'm shaking, tears filling up my eyes. I can't speak because of the pain. One hand is holding my side while the other is trying to push him off of me. This only angers him more. He pushes all of his weight onto my chest. The air escapes my lungs. My heart is racing. I'm terrified.

"Are you cheating on me?! Is that it?!" he barks. I tell him no over and over between sobs. I push against him to no avail. He pulls my shirt collar so hard, it rips.

"Show me! Let me check you for marks!" He pulls the fabric, tearing it. I scream out, flailing my hands trying to stop him or hit him. He slaps me across the face and proceeds ripping off my shirt. He holds my head against the pillow, checking my neck and chest for evidence.

My hands blindly reach to try to stop him, but he encages both my wrists in one hand and pulls me, turning me onto my stomach. I screamed as he grabs a fistful of my hair and shoves me into the bed. I try fighting against him, but he's too quick and strong. His nails dig into my lower back as he yanks my pants down.

I panic, trying desperately to breathe, trying to kick him off of me. I try to call out, but I know that no one can hear me.

Then, I feel him push into me. I feel my flesh ripping, my cries and screams muffled by the pillows. Each thrust is more painful and a metallic scent in the air tells me I'm bleeding. I stop fighting. I'm lightheaded. I'm either about to pass out or die. I silently hope for the latter.

It feels like an eternity has gone by, but with a final push, he stops and collapses on me. His breath is hot on my shoulder blades. He lets go of my hair. I don't move. He climbs off me and I hear him put his jeans on as he clears his throat. What happens next terrifies me the most.

He puts his hands under me and picks me up like a small child, cradling me against his chest. I don't do or say anything when he enters the bathroom. He sits me on the edge of the tub and runs the water, tossing in a washcloth.

He walks to the door, but he never turns to look at me. His voice is cold. "Wash up. I'm going get cigarettes." He leaves.

I stand up and look at myself in the mirror. My lips is bleeding from a small cut. My face is red, a very visible hand print is seen. I can't hold myself up. My legs turn to jello. I fall to the floor and curl up and just cry.