Here's an exert from one of my (unpublished, unfinished) books, 'Susan Gilmore' - Heavy but hopefully OK writing :) Thanks to Scarlett for the line. (GWTW fans anyone?)
I came with a warning, my Aunts warning, “She’s not as strong as she thinks she is.” That’s what she said to him. That’s my one warning, it was supposed to make him protect me, but in essence all he heard was "she is weak."
I could smell the alcohol on his breath, I could see the fury in his eyes, yet it all seemed like a dream, like something that was happening to someone else. I felt numb. I felt nothing. It was as if I was watching it all from the corner, watching the girl backed against the door, watching the man stand over her, watching him strip her confidence, her trust, her strength.
I stood and watched her face. Her confusion showed through a vacant gaze, confusion between wanting to love this man and being scared of him.
He didn’t seem to notice. She shook her head in confusion and took a step closer to him, reaching out to embrace him, help him. Her movements were slow, gentle, radiating with compassion. He stood rigid against her touch. His mouth pulled tight. As she stepped closer he violently pushed her back against the door. With a swift movement his hand closed around her neck, pinning her against the door.
Instantly I was back.
His hand crushed around my throat, my airways constricted. I felt my feet lift off the ground. He banged my head against the wooden door as he lifted me. The pressure on my neck increased. I gasped for air. My eyes wide with fear, I stared at his face. His eyes were black with rage. His brow furrowed into a deep crevasse. His teeth were gritted yet as he yelled little droplets of spit flew from his mouth. My hands were around his wrist, half pushing him away, half still stupidly wanting to embrace him.
My mind was racing, the lack of air was making me panic. I could feel my face going red. It didn’t seem to bother him. He raised his voice and my ears hurt from the assault. He clenched his eyes shut, he raised his fist, I shut my eyes, I flinched as much as his grip let me, Turning my face away from the impending blows. But his fist shot past my face, it hit the door next to my head. With each blow the wood reverberated from the force.
The instant headache was enough. This isn’t right. He shouldn’t be doing this. Not again.
I was sick of it. But was this enough to walk away? Technically, he still hadn’t hit me.
If he did hit me at least then I could leave. At least then there would be reason enough to walk away. The realisation slapped me across the face and before the words had even crossed my lips they had already spread a smile across my face.
“You missed” I gasped with a wry grin.
He pulled back, confusion etched across his face but he didn't dare let go of my throat.
Im not weak, I thought to myself, Im stronger than you think. Stubborn determination and strength coursed through my veins, "I said you missed." my voice came out cool and calm. I stared directly into his eyes,"C'mon hit me, isn't that what out want to do? Wouldn't that make you feel like a man?" I was shaking, with fear and adrenalin. Half of me wanted to get it over and done with, wave the red flag and then deal with the fallout, just so long as this was over. The other half just wanted to give him a hug and tell him everything will be OK.
His eyes searched my own, for a moment I thought he would call my bluff. I needed to stand strong, I needed one last push. "Get your hands off me you drunken fool!"
I couldn't help but flinch when he moved his hand. His eyes dropped from mine, his hand released my neck, he turned away. I hesitated for a second, poised for another fight. But it was over.
I dropped to the floor, rubbing my neck. I sat frozen, still shaking. I had stood up to him, I had found my strength. My warning had been proven false and this felt like only the start, the start of the end.
I came with a warning, my Aunts warning, “She’s not as strong as she thinks she is.” That’s what she said to him. That’s my one warning, it was supposed to make him protect me, but in essence all he heard was "she is weak."
I could smell the alcohol on his breath, I could see the fury in his eyes, yet it all seemed like a dream, like something that was happening to someone else. I felt numb. I felt nothing. It was as if I was watching it all from the corner, watching the girl backed against the door, watching the man stand over her, watching him strip her confidence, her trust, her strength.
I stood and watched her face. Her confusion showed through a vacant gaze, confusion between wanting to love this man and being scared of him.
He didn’t seem to notice. She shook her head in confusion and took a step closer to him, reaching out to embrace him, help him. Her movements were slow, gentle, radiating with compassion. He stood rigid against her touch. His mouth pulled tight. As she stepped closer he violently pushed her back against the door. With a swift movement his hand closed around her neck, pinning her against the door.
Instantly I was back.
His hand crushed around my throat, my airways constricted. I felt my feet lift off the ground. He banged my head against the wooden door as he lifted me. The pressure on my neck increased. I gasped for air. My eyes wide with fear, I stared at his face. His eyes were black with rage. His brow furrowed into a deep crevasse. His teeth were gritted yet as he yelled little droplets of spit flew from his mouth. My hands were around his wrist, half pushing him away, half still stupidly wanting to embrace him.
My mind was racing, the lack of air was making me panic. I could feel my face going red. It didn’t seem to bother him. He raised his voice and my ears hurt from the assault. He clenched his eyes shut, he raised his fist, I shut my eyes, I flinched as much as his grip let me, Turning my face away from the impending blows. But his fist shot past my face, it hit the door next to my head. With each blow the wood reverberated from the force.
The instant headache was enough. This isn’t right. He shouldn’t be doing this. Not again.
I was sick of it. But was this enough to walk away? Technically, he still hadn’t hit me.
If he did hit me at least then I could leave. At least then there would be reason enough to walk away. The realisation slapped me across the face and before the words had even crossed my lips they had already spread a smile across my face.
“You missed” I gasped with a wry grin.
He pulled back, confusion etched across his face but he didn't dare let go of my throat.
Im not weak, I thought to myself, Im stronger than you think. Stubborn determination and strength coursed through my veins, "I said you missed." my voice came out cool and calm. I stared directly into his eyes,"C'mon hit me, isn't that what out want to do? Wouldn't that make you feel like a man?" I was shaking, with fear and adrenalin. Half of me wanted to get it over and done with, wave the red flag and then deal with the fallout, just so long as this was over. The other half just wanted to give him a hug and tell him everything will be OK.
His eyes searched my own, for a moment I thought he would call my bluff. I needed to stand strong, I needed one last push. "Get your hands off me you drunken fool!"
I couldn't help but flinch when he moved his hand. His eyes dropped from mine, his hand released my neck, he turned away. I hesitated for a second, poised for another fight. But it was over.
I dropped to the floor, rubbing my neck. I sat frozen, still shaking. I had stood up to him, I had found my strength. My warning had been proven false and this felt like only the start, the start of the end.
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