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Rated: E · Fiction · Other · #2168904
Just a random stories I wrote
He came closer, closer and closer till she could feel his hot breath fan against her face. Til she could see the outline of his face, his crooked jaw and roman nose so obvious in the little like the now broken light gave off. Trapped in the cabin they were in, a cabin they once had made memories in, she knew all she would gain from here on out were nightmares. Rotting all of the love and care they’d put into their home. Knowing she'd never get the metallic smell of both of their blood on the carpet, or the small shards of glass from the tile in the kitchen. And yet in that moment, her on the floor, fight for her own life, and her husband, towering above her grunting with pain with every step. It didn't matter at that point how much he’d hurt her, how much pain he’d cause her, both mentally and physically. With every grunt of pain she remember how many times he’d made her feel better, and dried her tears. She fought back the urge to hold him, to shield him from the outside world, and pain he felt. Seeing his face brought a flood of memories, of all the times she’d forgave him, not realizing the signs he’d shown so early in the relationship. From those memories all her heart could feel was betrayal, and regret. She suffocated in the feeling. Through the silence of the situation, all she could hear was his heart beat, the only remaining thing that reminded her of his humanity, something that had be torn away long ago. She could still smell the roast pork dinner she’d made minutes before, the salty, savory taste of the pork still lingered on her lips, now being overpowered with the coppery taste of blood. His fists were bloody as well, from hitting both her and the table, which was now knowed over, and all the contents of it spilled to the floor. Including the bottle of wine they’d planned to crack open, as a celebrations on their anniversary.
It wasn't always like this, there was a time where they were happy, where she didn’t fear him, but love him. Then things changed. They were on date night, She’d had one to many drinks, so he decided to drive. It was a friday night, the streets were crowded and drunk people roamed and stubbled around the sidewalks. Little did he know, there were also drunk people wavering in their cars near by. A drunk driver collided with the side of our car, hitting him first. He worked in law enforcement, so when they told him after we recovered, that he’d never be able to work as a police officer anymore. Something in him broke. His career was everything to him, gave him purpose, and by losing it, he lose a piece of himself. Due to to the injury, he had a hard time finding a new job, so she made most of the money, and he used most of it on liquor. He began to get irritable, annoyed by the simplest of mistakes. He started yelling more, slowly becoming more and more violent. She never really thought about it, believing it was phase and he’d get better, hopefully soon. So she forgave, and forgave, till she couldnt take it anymore.
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