Death of an Angel

I could sense your presence as soon as I stepped foot into the house. Your very being appeared to hold the atmosphere captive in anger and hatred - a lethal concoction that bred irrational shouting and ludicrous accusations. I closed the door as silently as my lumbering character allowed and crept nervously toward the living room door. I expected you to lunge toward me at any moment, I became increasingly apprehensive and fearful as the seconds passed excruciatingly slow with no word uttered or movement acted at all.

On coming level with the door, I peered inside; the air was stale and the smell of tobacco and alcohol threatened to choke me as I stepped hesitantly into the dim-lit room. The interior was dark and the grey of the walls represented the emptiness inside me, and I thought, inside you as well. The light glowed orange and shone a deathly haze on the scene. You were sat solemnly in your favourite chair, the leather torn and foam visible, holding a can of mind-blurring beer and what appeared to be a cigaretter in the other - although, I had not dismissed it from being cannabis. The sight sent shivers down my spine but, still, you did not move. It seemed like hours passed before you slowly rose to your unsteady feet and hobbled over to where I was stood. I shrank back into the door way; my mind screeching at me to run but my heart, trusting the monster before me, rooting me to the spot in which I shivered. The cold breeze of fear swept through my body, causing my limbs to shiver and my heart to flutter in my chest. My breath caught somewhere on its ascent to my lungs and I found myself wobbling uncontrollably.

You stood taller than me and your muscular figure loomed menacing as your beautiful brown eyes bore into my soul. The odour became stronger the closer you staggered toward my quivering frame and, mixed with my own trepidation, I soon found my head swimming with outrageous thoughts that clouded any rational judgement I had held before. My eyes began to fill with invisible tears and my legs threated to give way beneath me. You calm exteriour did not fool me as your silence spoke words of hate and shame, as it had so many times before.

"I love you," I whispered almost incoherently.

My eyes widened in terror as I watched your lips apprehensively in dire hope for a soft, loving reply. It did not come.

"You love me, huh?"

A grimace spread eerily across your face.

"Of course I love you," I replied cautiously. "I love you more than anything else in the whole entire world."

The only reply I recieved was a hate-filled glare and my fear was confirmed, I could say nothing to stir faith in your heart; you had experienced too much pain in your life to trust a feeble specimen such as myself. My eyes bore tears of pity and guilt that ran down my cheeks and died on my chin, smearing the dirt to show sallow cheeks underneath. The tension strengthened around me as your motionless terrorisation continued.

Without warning, your first ploughed into my fragile torso, sending me hurtling toward the wooden floor underneath. Too shocked to speak or scream, even to breathe, I gazed up at you. Your eyes told the tales of your past and your mouth uttered broken promises and heartbreak. I wanted to sooth your soul and make you believe and accept the extent of my devotion but the words were lost in my astonishment.

Feet of steel pounded into my side as punches rained down on my head. My body momentarily too stunned to protect itself but hastily curling into a ball; aware and accepting of what was taking place ater much unwanted familiarity. My broken emotions and shattered thoughts shrouded in a wall of trembling yet unrelenting flesh. I had become worryingly numb to your beating after months of such torture. Despite the bruises and gashes I recieved, my own will to survive overruled any pain I could suffer.

Nightmare followed nightmare as things steadily got worse. After what seemed like hours of your treacherous violence, I lay sprawled at your feet, beaten and devastated. You spluttered as the alcohol began its transformation of elation to confusion and agitation. Your eyes flitted from myebony hair, splayed around my head like a halo, to my small feet, dressed in worn sneakers. I recognised the evil flicker in your eyes as you surveyed the victim you had made me. Your eyes locked onto mine as an unnerving leer encompassed your ghostly features. A laugh escaped your sneer as you lowered yourself to the floor. I felt my skirt being hitched up and vomit leapt into my throat. You lowered yourself onto me as my mind fled the sickening situation.

My senses failed to register the alcoholic reek of your breath and the stomach-churning grunts as your performed your repulsive act. Your grinning face loomed close to my own terrified face and your ice-cold hands burned my tender skin as you explored my delicate body leaving scars that would never fade. You whispered slurred words of hate and shame into my ear as your poison invaded my body. The dark surroundings blurred together as my mind escaped for the preservation of sanity and concentrated on the more important issues that no longer were.

I had felt the light leave my shell on the impact of that inital punch; my emotions appeared to have seized to function from that moment on and I understood perfectly why. You had diminished the pending life of our unborn baby. That single plunge of your first into my abdomen destroying something I had cherished and nourished unremittingly since my discovery; a tiny person that I had felt closer to than anyone before, in a few seconds of blinding anger. Previous to this, I had never felt hate toward your grotesque actions, only remorse at my inconsiderate mistakes. Things shifted inside me and white-hot anger boiled surprisingly beneath my skin, inside my broken heart, but my physical stength failed to present itself as I laid helpless at your mercy. You annihilated my baby and my soul and I was still powerless to do anything to prevent your from hurting me further; I was pathetic personified.

It felt like days passed before you climbed away from my exhausted frame and staggered from the house into the biting wind. I lay immobile with dread as I listened intently for returning footsteps. They did not come. I finally released my breath and crawled, careful of my injuries, into the corner. My body folding together as I emitted the fear, the pain and your poison for my body. I spent the night there with the knowledge that you would not return until the following morning. I sobbed until I could weep no more; I cried tears of overwhelming misery; haunting tears for me, for you, but ultimately, for the loss of our baby, now unable to ever experience the pleasure, the horrors, of life.

I watched the door you had left through with eyes drowned with tears and noticed the bag dropped there on my arrival. Inside lay the pictures from my scan, taunting me, a macabre reminder of my loss.