The Bomb (Extinction)

The Bomb (Extinction)

His fists rained down and punctured the fragile skin, blemishing the beauty. She did not cry; tears were the tiny drops of weakness that stole from your eyes, no she did not cry. She only sat, her hands tucked neatly under her and a slight rock keeping her upright. She did not flinch when the hardness of his muscled arm struck her in the mouth, only rocked. She only sat, a deep purple swelling beginning to grow, and a headache that drilled fro inside and tore out her ears. Thoughts didn’t happen; her mind was a clouded grey that told her nothing. Just a fist and then another. A fist and then another. Blood was everywhere, out of her mouth, on her shirt, on the couch, on his fist. Still she did not cry; it was the last shred of dignity that he had not raped from her. She only sat and felt her jaw break and tear the skin of her cheek, only sat and felt her nose smash into a thousand screaming pieces, only sat and rocked. Still one fist and then another, one fist and then another. She did not flinch, as a million teeth splintered off the gum and copper filled her mouth, as one eye filled with a deep well of red and then ruptured, she did not flinch. As her heart stopped it’s mindless beating, as the fists continued to bury into nothing alive, and blood poured from ten million holes torn from canvass, one thought continued to stream over and over. As the one fist again and again beat down. As life ebbed out and her husband continued to storm, and no tears came:

“He never was. I never am. I am alone.”