Her feet drag across the floor. Every inch feels like a thousands knives, but she’s determined to make it out alive.
He never loved any of us. She thinks.
Now the pain switches. She’s in Antarctica it feels, with white toes, and a they barely move from an internally created frostbite.
Just keep going. Get your life out of here.
Boxes are flown around, admidst distressed animals and her life creations lie scattered on the floor. It’s symbolic in a way to her; impossible to get back to at that time but waiting in a corner for her escape.
He lures her.
I don’t want to fight. Come here.
He takes her innocence, her wings scattered across the bed; an angel filled with lead. His mind infused with a drug concoction so severe it’s as if he’s possessed. A devilish spirit inside waiting to manifest, before her escape from the pits of hell.
And it’s a mind game. Does he remember even? The damage he’s done. Must be nice to forget but she never will. One thing for sure: it’ll never break her spirit.
It turns into a battle scene. The hallway dark, filled with unoriginal art like his own personality, and now even objects inside become a representation of his false self. Everything she has is the polar opposite of it.
He begs, pleads for her to stay, continue being the outlet for his frustrations in his fragile psyche but she has other plans. Plans to leave and start over. Create a life she deserved, instead of a life he controlled.
All I wanted was to love you. But you could make a dream turn into a nightmare.
The cats and dog lie next to her, depressed and knowing there’s good vs evil in the home. Her strength increases with each embrace they offer as she’s reminded of nature. Reminded of how much animals throughout her life were there; more than most people.
We could learn from these creatures and rid of the inflated ego. She thinks.
He’s already onto preparing his next victim while she fights for her health, life, and escape upstairs. Typical of a repeat abuser. Typical of a little boy posing as a man, taking from women, and playing victim.
Her life is in the back of cars, thrown about carelessly. Her lip split open from the night before from being treated as less than by a society who saw her feet as a problem. Ableism imbedded into their minds while they virtue signal online most likely
Her own handlebars were pushed into her mouth at the event until blood ran down her face. Trampled over like an invisible ghost. Framed as an unjustifiably angry person when anger was justified.
I’ll handle that issue later. Let them think they won. She thinks. Other matters need to be attended to. We’ll fight for their rights soon.
He seems to have no memory of what’s been done. Drinking until a state of amnesia. She’s gone now, escaped the grasp.
“I have your ring still.” He says after everything done.
She wanted to throw the ring into a river. She did not want any other woman enduring those kind of chains. Marrying the devil is a death to your soul. And she would rather struggle by herself than lose everything that inspires her.
He could never break her spirit. His own too broken already to even see the pieces thrown about. His walls tell stories that will forever haunt him once regret sets in. His bones will shrivel someday, mind will fade, and nothing will be left but the destruction he’s caused. No one will stick around but people like himself; it’s a curse he will never escape.
She will haunt his dreams, his unconscious riddled with fragments of what he’s done to not just her but everyone. There will be no redemption for people like him either. But for those who escaped, there will be freedom, love, inspiration and their voice will speak truth in a world filled with lies. This will bring those in fear out of the shadows and into the light.
No more hiding from fear. None of you have to fear. We will fight together against these types of monsters.