Alexandra
Ilivemylife at the edge of a disaster, waiting every moment to tumble off a cliff. But I can't let fear stop me from embracing uncertainty and taking the leap into the unknown. I'm exhausted from waging a self-defeating war with myself. Somewhere along the line, I lost my voice, and now I do what I'm told out of fear of being abandoned, which is a twisted irony because usually, I'm the one doing the abandoning. I just go through the motions as the days bleed into one another. Some days, I'm happy and content. Other days, I wrestle with my guilty conscience about the lies I feed myself, only to turn a blind eye and continue pretending everything is okay. I put on my favorite mask and greet the world with a vacant smile, just like Mona Lisa.If I could change one thing, it would be trusting my gut when it was telling me Nathan was bad news. Leopards don't change their spots and I know he'll never change what he is. I hate myself for giving my power away to him, for letting myself become his little puppet. I'm annoyed with myself for forgetting who I was and going through life like an empty husk, feeling nothing. I'm dead inside. Fuck my life. Fuck Nathan. Fuck everyone. The shrill sound of the dark side of the force is calling you interrupts me as I imagine hacking Nathan into tiny little pieces and feeding him to the sharks like Dexter. His name flashes briefly on my cell phone screen. Shit! He goes nuts when I'm late, but working as an oncology nurse in a busy hospice means putting the needs of my patients above my own. Unfortunately, all he cares about is satisfying his needs first. I inhale deeply, preparing myself for whatever insults I'm about to receive. Not long to go, Allie. Breathe.
"Hi babe, sorry, I had to—"
"You're in a world of trouble, bitch! You know what happens when you're late, don't you?"
I clench my fists until my knuckles become pallid white, fighting the urge to scream and tell him to fuck off. Stop calling him babe. When I keep my mouth shut and head down, he calms down quicker and stops hurling abuse at me. Grow a backbone, you coward. My long bleached blonde tresses slap my cheek as I shake my head from side to side to stop myself from spiraling into self-hatred.
"Sorry, Nathan. One of my patients died this afternoon, and I had to fill out lots of paperwork." The sound of his malicious laughter blares through my car, sending shivers down my spine.
"You better get your ugly ass home soon." The line goes dead.
I tighten the muscles in my arms as intense loathing rolls through me. Fucking insensitive, heartless pig. I lost a patient today. He was someone's husband, father, brother, and uncle. Not long to go, bubba I promise you, I'll keep you safe. I rub my belly while tears threaten to spill from my eyes. He doesn't deserve your tears. I never expected to get pregnant. After surviving childhood cancer, my doctor told me my chances of becoming a mother were slim to none. It nearly broke me. It must have happened three months ago when Nathan came home completely wasted and furious after losing large amounts of money in the casino, because we were barely intimate before or since. He'd crept into bed and forced himself on me, despite me repeatedly begging him to stop. I spent the rest of the night curled into a ball, sobbing on the cold bathroom floor and promising myself I'd find the strength to leave him.Since that night, I've quietly been planning my great escape by selling most of my belongings. I also entrusted Heidi to keep my passport and the jewelry my grandmother left me after she died. We've been best friends since middle school, and she's been begging me to leave Nathan from the moment we got together, saying he's no good for me. But I'd been hell-bent on proving her wrong and so desperate for any attention that I let myself believe his intense jealousy and controlling behavior was true love.
I met Nathan four years ago when Heidi and I came home on our spring break. She dragged me to her brother's housewarming party. The moment our gazes locked across the crowded living room, I knew I was a goner. It was lust at first sight. He was the personification of tall, dark, and dangerous, from his stylishly tousled raven hair and hawk nose to his ripped, tattooed arms bulging beneath his black t-shirt. He exuded so much bad boy charisma that my ovaries were begging me to lock him in a room and climb him like a tree. Bad boys have always been my weakness. They're like fast food - unhealthy - but you can't stop yourself from drooling and gorging until you can't breathe. Back then I couldn't have enough of him, now I wish I'd never met him. Dreaming and regretting that you didn't listen to Heidi won't help you now. You need to stay focused on the present. Thinking of the present, thankfully Nathan has been so preoccupied with winning his money back he hasn't noticed me skipping breakfast every morning. As long as I serve him his greasy, heart attack-inducing breakfast, he doesn't care if I have eaten or not. I made a vow that he can never know that I'm pregnant. Never! I can't let that monster raise my child. Before we both end up dead, I need to protect him or her.
I park my beetle in the driveway and kill the engine. My body becomes impossibly still, dreading the possibility of another violent confrontation. I stare at the mirror and a lost, broken, and emotionally depleted girl looks back at me. I silently encourage her to stay strong. Time to face the music. I take a few deep breaths before heading into the house. I step into the dark, wood paneled hallway, my heart slamming against my ribcage frantically. No Nathan. I listen. No sound. I creep up closer to the living room. A prickling sensation shoots up my spine, freezing me on the spot as the floorboard creaks ominously behind me. A cold sweat breaks on my forehead. I drop my handbag on the armchair, but before I can turn around, strong hands grip my hair, hauling me towards a rock-hard chest. White hot pain sears my scalp and I let out an agonizing yelp. He jerks me harder, forcing me to the floor. The sound of Nathan's maniacal laughter breaks the heavy silence.
"Why is my dinner not on the table? Were you alone with Michael? Did you let him fuck you? I've seen you staring at him like he's a piece of candy, you dirty whore!"
The stench of stale tobacco and whiskey assaults my nostrils. I constrict my stomach muscles tight to stop myself from vomiting all over the floor. Lately, he's been drinking copious amounts of whiskey. It wouldn't surprise me if alcohol runs in his veins instead of blood.
"Nathan, please." My jaw trembles in fear, making it hard to speak. "You know, Michael is old enough to be my father. He's my boss, nothing more."
"Shut up, you lying bitch." He slams a foot into my back, knocking the breath out of me. Pain branches across my spine like lightning, making my head swim. I let out a ragged gasp. Pain is an illusion. It's only in your mind.Ignore it, Allie. I curl into a fetal position, wrapping my arms around my knees to protect my precious unborn bubba. Whatever happens, I must protect the life growing inside of me. Another wave of nausea hits me, but I don't move a muscle. I inhale deeply, retreating into my safe space, praying for the nausea to subside. My body shudders violently as he strikes the heel of his foot on the side of my back. The sickening crunch of my ribs fracturing echoes in my ears.
Nathan shuffles around and stands in front of me. His icy blue eyes sparkle with malicious intent, which means he's too far gone, and I won't be able to reason with him. I stare back at him with a mixture of disgust and contempt even though I know it'll piss him off. A cloud of warning settles over his features because he can't handle it when I stand up for myself. His fingers clamp around my shoulder like a metal claw, squeezing hard. I bite back a wince, as I don't want to give him the pleasure of knowing that he's hurting me. He grabs my jacket, hauling me to my feet. Stay strong. Recently, his verbal abuse escalated to shoving, pushing, and slapping me, which he regrets the next morning. He always apologizes profusely and promises that he will never hit me again, crying out, I'm sorry babe, it's not my fault. It's the alcohol that makes me crazy. You know I love you and I will never hurt you again. But the moment he forced himself on me while he was blind drunk, I knew our relationship was beyond repair. I knew it was a matter of time before he started using me as his personal punching bag.
"Let's eat something, Nate. You must be hungry. I'll make you macaroni cheese, your favorite." My voice comes out gravelly, unrecognizable, as if I'm completely detached from my body.
He clenches his hand in a tight fist, making me flinch. I step backwards, but not fast enough. Pain explodes behind my eyes as his hard fist connects with my nose. I rock backward and forward before I lose my balance and hurtle towards the floor. I flail my arms to soften the blow, but my head hits the wooden floor with a sickening crack. Fuck. I suck in a sharp breath, swallowing the blinding pain. Blood gushes from my nose, staining my lips and chin crimson red.
"This should teach you to keep your ugly mouth shut next time, you dirty slut. I told you to shut the fuck up."
Nathan's unshaved, yellowish face contorts into a hideous grimace. He uses the opportunity to straddle me. I pull and yank my arms, trying to free myself, but he tightens his thighs, trapping me. The fires of hell stoke the simmering hate in my heart. I've had enough of this emotionally unstable monster. Fight, Allie. Be brave for your baby. I shriek like a crazed banshee.
"Get off me, you drunken monster."
He twists his lips into a lecherous sneer, ignoring my outburst. He unbuttons his collar and removes his tie in slow motion. Oh dear God, no! Please no! When he releases my arms, I place my hand on his chest, pushing him backward as hard as I can, but he grabs my wrists and binds them above my head. He moves the nearest armchair with his free hand, wrapping the tie around the heavy wooden leg, restraining me. There is no escape now. Nathan storms off towards the kitchen and comes back with a stainless-steel knife in his hand.
"You'll like what I have planned for you, Buttercup. I have been itching to try this with you. Now is the perfect time."
He hasn't called me Buttercup since our honeymoon phase ended two years ago. I stare at him, speechless. I open my mouth, but no words are coming out. Nathan runs his fingers up and down the knife, stroking it like a lover. Crap, he's gone completely insane. A few months ago, I caught him watching violent porn and masturbating like his life depended on it. This must have inspired his sudden interest in knives.My body trembles with impotent rage, knowing I'm at his mercy. He can do whatever he wants and I can't do anything to fucking stop it. My breathing grows ragged and labored as Nathan cocks his head, a smug smirk spreading wide across his face. He kneels beside me, then uses the knife to cut off my shirt, bra, and skirt. Buttons fly everywhere, dropping on the wooden floor like pebbles. He scrapes the tip of his knife against the skin on my neck, pressing it down enough to scare me. I'm unsure if I should scream or even breathe. I stare with numbed horror, but I can't tear my gaze away. I watch him drag the knife between my breasts, blood welling up from the cuts as he makes his way down to my belly. Gritting my teeth against the blazing pain, I turn my head to the side, unable to look at the marks.
"Nathan, please stop. I don't like this game." My voice shakes, betraying my feelings, and I whimper. He pauses, glaring at me with glazed eyes.
"My cock has gotten bored with fucking your pussy. It's like I'm fucking a dead horse. This is great for spicing things up. Now shut up and enjoy the show, bitch."
Agony shoots through me like a fire as he drags the knife, making deeper cuts in my belly and arms. Sadistic pig! Crimson red blood trickles down my arms and stomach, making me dizzy. I swallow my screams, stuffing them deep in my throat, but I can't stop the angry tears from streaming down my face. I won't give this sick fuck the satisfaction of knowing how much it hurts. He fumbles with his zipper, then rips my panties off.
"Nathan, please don't do this. Please." Icy terror grips me, knotting my stomach. My heart hammers erratically in my chest while I squeeze my thighs together, but I know I'm playing a losing game. He pushes his hand between my thighs, then pinches my inner leg hard. I suck my lower lip between my teeth and bite down to stop myself from screaming.
"Nathan please," he mocks by mimicking my voice. "Freaks like you get off on pain and love to be fucked fast and hard. You love it, admit it."
I rock my hips to throw him off, but he holds me down, then with one nightmare thrust, he pushes himself inside, stretching and tearing me. I release an ear-splitting scream as excruciatingly sharp pain lances through my core. My screams only makes him grow thicker and harder, fueling his depraved cruelty. He makes repulsive, stomach-churning grunts in the back of his throat like a starved animal as he rips my shirt off, leaving me completely exposed. I close my eyes, sick at the sight of his disgusting face.
"Open your eyes and scream for me, bitch." His teeth clamp around my nipple, savagely biting and tugging rough and hard until an agonizing, inhumane howl escapes from my throat, piercing my eardrums. Nathan's gaze clouds with lust and his breathing hitches, becoming ragged.
"I hate you, you soulless monster," I rasp. "Does hurting me make you feel like a man instead of a lost boy desperate to be loved and validated?" I consider spitting on his revolting face, but I change my mind, knowing it might enrage him further.
A quick bark of laughter bursts from his throat. "You are nothing! Do you hear me? Nothing but an ugly, fat, worthless piece of shit." His fingers wrap around my throat, cutting my air supply.
You should have kept your mouth shut.I open my mouth, gulping and gasping for air, but his icy fingers feel like a tight noose around my throat. My muscles stiffen, ready to run, but there's nowhere to go. Adrenaline bursts through my veins, making my heart thrash in my chest like a caged animal before the slaughter. Despite the intense pain, I heave and buckle under him, fighting with everything I've got to free my arms. I can't throw him off me, no matter how hard I struggle. I let go. My muscles go limp and slack as his palms press against my throat, choking the last air left in my burning, aching lungs. I stare at him in horror, my eyes silently pleading for him to stop. He curves his mouth into a vicious sneer and continues to ram into me relentlessly. Please, God help me! The thudding of my heart slows down, telling me I'm close to death, but there's nothing I can do to save myself.Time slows as the gravity of the situation weighs down. I gasp, but no sound comes out of my throat. I don't want to die. Not like this. My chest gets tighter and tighter as guilt floods through me. I've wasted so much time playing the dutiful daughter, friend and employee to get the approval and validation of others, to feel that I matter. The lights become blurry as the room spins around me. I wait for my entire life to flash in front of my eyes, but my mind grows hazy and creeping darkness steals my vision, taking me into sweet oblivion. Sorry bubba. I wish I could…