Stolen

What just happened? My breath is so uneven, clothes scattered about, my hair is so messy and ratted. Tears? I feel tears on my face. As I reach up to wipe them my hand is shaking. Shaking, why am I shaking? Why do I hurt? Why is the room spinning? I can’t hear anything. Ringing, beating, breathing, that’s all that’s entering my ears. Touch, what do I feel? Sheets, my sheets. They’re messy, not neat how I left them. Sight, what do I see? Tell me why I feel so empty. Show me why my heart is black right now. I see a dent in my wall. I see blood dripping from my nose, and I see…

Him.

A man with silver rings and skin pale dressing himself back up in his clothes. His hair is messy, body sweaty, and his fists are covered with my blood. It looks as if he was just painting a room and I suppose he had except I was his paint. He turns his head towards me. His face, I know his face. I can feel every cell in my body shake, then burn, I feel burning. My mind searches for what I already know yet can’t comprehend. 

He’s my boyfriend. 

And he just stole my body. 

I had invited him in as usual to chat a bit before he needed to leave. But he didn’t leave. I told him to, I said it was getting late and he needed to head back soon since we both had work in the morning. But he didn’t leave. Instead he came closer to me. I didn’t mind at first, we had kissed before. But soon he got handsy, more than I liked. He started trying to undress me. I told him to stop. He didn’t listen. I told him it’s my body, it’s mine, he can’t touch it. But he did. And he kept touching it even when I cried, and when I hit him he hit me back. He kept hitting me, he was crazy, an animal. He hit me so I’d stop screaming. He hit so hard I passed out. All consciousness had left me but the pain I felt when I awoke, the soreness. I know what he did to me. I know what he stole. 

“You, how dare you.”

My voice sounded like a cat scratching the insides of my throat. I could taste the blood, feel my heart pounding faster and faster, and my mind was cutting every moral I had. My sympathy leaked out my eyes. The blood slipping off me held all my love fastly fading into hate stained on my skin. How could he?

Bastard.

Bastard.

Bastard. 

“This is my body…”

My words came out a murmur this time. He finally looked over at me. The only words he had to spare 

“C’mon it was about time I got some, it’s only fair after all the crap I buy you.” 

Fair? 

His explanation is that it was fair? 

I could feel myself laugh a hard breathy laugh yet the only thing I heard was myself opening the drawer next to my bed, drawing my gun, and the three shots that echoed in my apartment. 

I felt no guilt. 

I felt no sadness. 

He deserved it. 

The bastard deserved it. 

It’s my body. 

It’s my body I cried out as I sank into my tears flooding the carpet. The gun laid by my side and his body across the room. Looking in his eyes I couldn’t believe I had ever loved such a vial repulsing creature. 

“You got what you deserved”