Freedom

I hear your voice as you stomp through the front door. You screech at me to come down the stairs, making a ruckus in the living room. I descend the stairs at a snail’s pace, dreading what is to undoubtedly occur. I reach the foot of the stairs and there you are.

You are a disgusting pig with your five o’clock shadow and unruly hair. Your wild eyes stare me down in that sardonic way of yours. You are anticipating what is going to happen. You tell me that it’s time for my daily lesson. It’s not a lesson; it’s a cruel punishment for purely your own enjoyment. You tell me that this is the way things work and that I should submit to you and not fight back.

I will not obey you. You cannot control me. No matter how much pain you cause me, I will never submit to you and you know this. That is why you hit harder every time, why you find new ways to torture me. The love that I once felt so strongly for you has vanished and will never return.

Your hand slowly reaches toward me, but not in a loving gesture like it once was; it is coming to hurt me. You reach my neck and caress it softly, teasing me, right before you grab onto it. I take a deep breath, knowing what is going to happen. Your hand tightens around my frail neck. You hold on tightly, squeezing harder as the seconds tick by.

I need to breathe. I claw at your hands, trying to release myself for your cold, hard grasp. But to no avail, I’m desperately trying to get the air into my lungs. I open my mouth as if to say or scream something. But nothing comes, nothing but inaudible gasps.

It seems like ages before you let go of me. The air rushes to my lungs as I breathe the air deeply. The sweet oxygen fuels my body, bringing the life back to me.

Your hands grasp my shoulders. I will not give you the satisfaction of screaming out in pain as you slam me into the wall. I fall to the ground slowly, closing my eyes and wishing for it to be over soon. I know it will not end. The agony and torture will never end.

You come up to me, glaring down at me. Your large body is menacing as it looms over me. You kick my arm, pain shoots up through it. I breathe harshly to keep the scream inside. The coffee table next to me has a lamp on it. You notice this and smile. You reach for the lamp and throw it down on me. It smashes on my head, the glass slicing my cheeks and arms.

I can’t help the scream that lurches from between my cracked lips, the tears that streak down my grimy face.

You chuckle in sick satisfaction. This was the response you had been waiting for. You finally leave me to melt away in the sorrow you have caused me. The emotional and physical torture I have endured from you for so long.

I can’t stop myself when I try to throw up the pain you have dealt me. I spasm as I try to rid myself of the haunting memories. It does nothing to ease the grief I feel. My body feels empty and weak. I don’t want to take this anymore.

I struggle as I get up from my place on the dirty floor. My head is dizzy and light. I feel out of control. I stumble across the floor to the stairs. I advance one step at a time until I finally reach the top. I don’t think I can make it to my destination, but I must try. I must try before you find me and stop me.

My eyes are closing on their own accord. I force them to open with the little strength I have left. I go to my room praying that you left the window unlocked. The window opens with ease. I look outside and can feel the freedom that I will soon have. I crawl through the window to the balcony. The wind caresses me, uplifting me, willing me to join its free course.

I step onto the ledge of the balcony, looking down below. It’s a far enough drop. I should be able to accomplish my one and only goal. I throw my head back and smile for the first time in ages. I think I even laughed. My arms are spread wide, welcoming the freedom.

I feel as my body tips forward, I hear you knock on the door, but I don’t care anymore. You will not be able to torment me any longer. I do not love you anymore and I am going to leave. Your voice carries through the door to my ears, but I do not hear what you are saying.

I tip farther and feel the rush of freedom.