|The story of a Victim
Author: YourBreathingMyAir PM
We all know that abuse is bad. Have you ever Seen how much it actually Hurts? The chilling thoughts from the victim, Her tale of abuse and pain, and her road to recovery.Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance/Drama - Words: 852 - Favs: 2 - Published: 08-21-11 - Status: Complete - id: 2945365
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
AN: This is not for the faint. There are mentions of abuse, Cutting, Suicide thoughts. There is also a sexual refrence and a few curse words. I gave you fair warning, So please, Do not read if you do not want to read about this.
Reviews and critiscim are welcome, Just don't be cruel. Thank you.
Sometime ago I might have been able to speak confidently about myself without hesitation. But time like that seems like a glass dream.
So faraway from now, So different.
Young and stupid, I fell for the Snakes Temptation, Laying in to the spiders web.
At first, his words were silk and his hands were gentle. He'd hold me and tell me how much he loved me.
He'd smile and laugh, If I look back on then he can almost pass off as a normal human. But normal humans have hearts...He seemed to have lost his.
After a while it was all anger and hate, His words stung like poison, and his hands felt like daggers.
He'd call me every name he could think of.
Whore. Slut. Bitch. Liar. Prostitute. Skank. Cunt.
They would spill from his mouth like bile, and his hands would hit hard.
I should have left the first time. The first time his hands came crashing down on me, with such force I begged for mercy.
Out of fear I could not. He would kill me.
So I hid my bruises and cuts from the world, and let him go to his strip joints, and I said nothing when he came home smelling like another woman.
I said nothing and told no one.
Who I thought was my Prince charming, Was a deadly and ill-tempered Snake, Beckoning me in to the temptation.
Just like Women before me, I fell.
I became a prisoner in what I thought was a home full of happiness.
I was young and I was not very sexually experienced. He taught me more then anyone ever dared, But he taught me with pain.
At first, It was gentle, Soft, passoinate, Sensual.
Then it became more needy, rough, demanding.
I was falling right into my worst nightmare, Deeper and deeper down into a dark abyss.
It came to the point when I would take the knife to my own arm, And bite my lip and focus on the pain instead of escaping from it. I wanted to know I was Alive.
The pain became my refuge as well as my Hell.
Everything, Everything I promised my self I would never let happen was playing out before my eyes.
I began to consider suicide. Anything to end this hate that was taking over my life.
I had pondered which would be the quickest.
The slowest even.
A shot to the head, A step to close to the edge of a crumbling cliff, A knife to my neck, Maybe a nice bottle of Vodka and a bottle of sleeping pills and pain reliever.
I could never do it.
A coward, I called myself.
Then, a night came when he turned my own knife against me, Carving lines into my back and stomach, yelling and laughing and hitting.
I begged for a death that would never come.
And finally, When he left for the strip joint, I pulled myself up from the floor cleaned my self up.
A nice bottle of Vodka would do, I had thought to myself, Numb the pain.
Life had other plans.
I ran into a boy from school, an old friend that this man took me away from.
He waved and smiled, Jogging closer.
When he was close enough to see me clearly he stopped, His fingers grazing my cheek.
That's when the tears started and wouldn't stop.
He eyed my shopping cart. Vodka, Bread, Chips, Fruit.
He turned my wrists out to him and revealed the scars and the stories they held. I confessed to him about the Snake's trap and the temptation.
He followed me home, followed me into the hell I had come to accept as my home.
He watched me pack my bags and turn the lights of and climb into his car instead of the old one that the Snake bought for me.
I was young and stupid when I met the snake and fell into his temptation. I was knowing and broken When my the hero found me.
And as a wise man once said, "After a dark night, There will be a dawn."
Slowly, I am beginning to Speak without fear, and put away the knife if I'm sad.
With the heroes arms as gentle guidance, I can almost be normal again. I can almost forget the scars that cover my wrists and line my back and stomach.
I had called myself a coward when I was unable to end my life, Now I know I was strong, and brave.
The last two years of my life have been a dark night, and, with a few steps at a time, I was walking toward a new dawn, and a new life.