My Story

I stood on shaken legs, looking at the face staring back at me though the large oval pine framed mirror. I did not recognise the face staring back at me.The bright red blood trickling slowly down the right hand side of my face, running down onto my neck and soaking into the collar of the white top I was wearing.

My left eye was already beginning to swell to twice its normal size and my jaw was painful when I tried to open my mouth. A large cut was visible across the top of my left eye, a large open wound dripping with more blood. I looked like something out of a horror movie.

My hands were stinging intensely as I tried to free the broken shards of glass that had dug into my flesh.

The dark shadow appeared at the doorway.

"Clean yourself up, you look a fucking mess"

It bitterly stung as I tried to cleanse the wounds. I shuddered at the pain. The sink was crimson red as I watched the blood swirling down the plughole, mixed with the warm water. I cleaned the sink.

I sat on the floor, my legs tucked underneath me as I began to sweep up the broken glass pieces into the dustpan. I couldvaguely feel shreds of glass piercing my knees as I swept away but felt no pain. I was numb.
My thoughts were not why had he done this to me, but why did he have to break the very last gift my dear grandmother had bought me before she passed away? He knew how much she meant to me.

I screamed "No not that" before the large glass vase was smashed against my skull. He could have had his choice of things to hit me with, but he choose that precious item instead.
That hurt more than the large heavy object forcefully meeting with my skull.

I had lost consciousness and lay out cold on the floor for several minutes before coming round to find him staring down at me , kicking me in the ribs to arouse me.

"Get the fuck up and take it like a real women" he had sneered "Your a worthless piece of shit".


I struggled to get to my feet as quickly as my aching body allowed me, my head thudding with the pain. The room spun around making me feel nauseated. All the time looking into his eyes. I held back the tears, it would only infuriate him even more. I had to accept my punishment with dignity.


"Sit down I want to talk to you about something" he informed me coming into the room taking the dustpan filled with glass off me. He threw it into the bin and returned to the living room.I had sat down readily, eagerly waiting for him.

"I think its time we had a baby don't you?"

He did not wait or give me a chance to reply.

"I am the only one at work who doesn't have kids and its starting to piss me off now"

Most loving couples would discuss this topic perhaps over a romantic meal or while tenderly laid in each other eyes. Not within thirty minutes of having a vase crashed against your skull. In only the way he knew how he dropped this on me like a bombshell. I could not have argued with him , told him I did not think we had a strong enough relationship or the correct stable enviroment into which to raise a child, instead I nodded wearily.