Page 46
Story: Beneath Her Skin
I will never freeze again.
Elias needs to suffer.
They all need to pay for what they’ve done.
None of them should feel safe. None of them should be laughing and living carefree. Everyone who had a hand in my lifelong purgatory deserves to see how their broken doll turned out. This is what they wanted, wasn’t it? For me to reach this point of no return.
I told him. I told him everything that happened to me like a fool in the beginning, and in return, he lulled me to his side with sweet nothings just to take advantage of me in the worst ways. Elias claims that in a relationship, it can’t be considered rape because we love each other, but does being in a relationship mean thatnoandstopare immediately invalid? To him, it’s not abuse,he just loves fiercely.
What type of love is that?
My thoughts sear into my brain the same way his hand branded my face. The same words replay in my head, louder each time, fueling the urge to act. I don’t notice that my leg is shaking until Elias places his hand on my thigh to push it down. The contact burns me, so I jolt upright, turning to him, but seeing through him.
“Excuse me, I need to use the bathroom.”
As soon as I’m out of sight, I round the corner and rush to the furthest bathroom from the living room, near the main entrance. My rage is a tsunami that threatens to swallow me whole and leave destruction in its wake.
When I enter the bathroom, the first thing in sight is the decorative towel rack drilled into the wall. This bathroom is new, so they are still working on it. Locking the door behind me I bang my hands against the wall twice, then reach for the towel rack and pull, punch, and fight the metal pole, if only to release the pent up energy. After a few minutes, it falls off, taking me backward with my own force.
Against the wall with heaving breaths, I look up to find my reflection. Deep brown eyes, framed by thick lashes, hold a quiet intensity as I study myself. It only pisses me off further, so I slam the rack against the mirror. A giggle escapes me, but it carries an edge of malice. The bar in my hands comes crashing down onto the tub beside me until it snaps in half and I’m sliding down the wall in a heap of manic laughter. It mixes in with my tears, growing louder as it hits me.
This must be rock bottom. Even if I had someone to talk to, I genuinely do not know how to talk to anyone without fear of my demons crawling out and scaring them away. There is something rotten inside of me, and I’m beginning to think I should embrace it.
Mama always said anger isn’t ladylike, but what do you call this urge that makes my fingers twitch whenever I hold the kitchen knife? What about the itch in my hands when I’m preparing a meal and notice poisonous chemicals nearby? If it isn’t anger, it must be something worse.
Tools are scattered around, so I run my fingers over the hammer’s cold metal beside me, imagining the sound it would make if it met Elias’ skull. “Not tonight,” I tell myself forthe umpteenth time. But the thought alone feels like power. Freedom. Hope.
Yet, that mantra is starting to feel a little less convincing. A small voice whispers,‘What if you act on your urges?’ ‘Embrace it.’ ‘They pushed you here.’My reflection in the shard of glass tells me everything I need to know.
Tonight might just be the night.
Something about the newly crisp November air feels just right. Perhaps I should have a little bonfire to lift my spirits? The smile that takes over my face is borderline demonic.
And I love it.
A knock on the bathroom door snaps me out of the fantasy momentarily. “What’s going on? Are you talking to someone in there?” Elias asks from the other side.
I push myself up off the ground and compose myself as I look around the small space. The side of my lip quirks up before I respond, “Everything’s fine in here.” With one final look at the shattered pieces of the mirror, it clicks. “Just getting off the phone with my mom, you know how she is.” I hear his footsteps retreating after some muffled words and slip out of the bathroom. “Hey, sorry for upsetting you earlier,” I say with a sweet smile before he reaches the living room again, despite the words feeling like acid tumbling out of my mouth.
Elias turns with a cocky smirk. “There she is. Are you ready to make it up to me? Is that why you came here, to have some fun?”
Tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, I put on my best act while staying close to the exit. “Actually, I came by becausemi mamawanted me to invite you over for dinner tonight. You know how she is, always wanting to make things more personal than a phone call. Sadly, I’m stuck helping her with the prep work, so I have to run back. Will we see you later tonight? I’ll make it up to you then.”
A myriad of emotions cross his face, the few beers doing nothing to conceal them. “Of course, you’ll see me there. I can never say no to Mama,” he smirks strangely, but I dismiss myself and run to my bike before he can change his mind about letting me leave.
The day is still young, but that house is still the last place I want to be. Letting my bike guide me through the hidden trails, I enjoy the stillness of the field beyond. Tall trees cast eerie shadows in the distance, creating strange patterns in broad daylight. Overgrown big bluestem grass almost creates a pretty-looking maze, one I’d definitely get lost in at nighttime. By the time I come to a stop, I’m not surprised at where I end up.
Hollow Graves is a local cemetery that happens to be a few blocks away from my house. No one ever comes, at least not when I’m here. This place is the next best thing. Oddly enough, it’s my favorite place. Most people think of ghosts or death when they hear the word cemetery, but this graveyard fills me with peace and a sense of safety I can’t find anywhere else.
My butt finds a familiar spot right under the most beautiful tree, a Twisted Hawthorn, so strong and full of life despite being surrounded by so much death and darkness.
This is the perfect place to figure out the game plan. There’s still so much to decide on, so much to think over. One thing is set in stone, Elias and Bianca will come face to face with my wrath, even if it’s the last thing I do.
There is only one way to end this madness once and for all. Destruction. Elias never has and never will let me go, not unless I truly do something about it. Anytime I try to leave him, he cries to my mother about how horrible I’ve been to him, but he still wants to make it work because he loves me. He will show up every single day, and she will let him go into my room until I forgive him, not caring that he can easily overpower me.
No more.
Sparking the emergency joint I keep in the seat stash of my bike, I let my lungs fill with the calming smoke as new ideas blend together, soothing my nerves. This is the only way I can get through the day without losing my shit. Even when I’m high, I feel the conviction in my bones.
Elias needs to suffer.
They all need to pay for what they’ve done.
None of them should feel safe. None of them should be laughing and living carefree. Everyone who had a hand in my lifelong purgatory deserves to see how their broken doll turned out. This is what they wanted, wasn’t it? For me to reach this point of no return.
I told him. I told him everything that happened to me like a fool in the beginning, and in return, he lulled me to his side with sweet nothings just to take advantage of me in the worst ways. Elias claims that in a relationship, it can’t be considered rape because we love each other, but does being in a relationship mean thatnoandstopare immediately invalid? To him, it’s not abuse,he just loves fiercely.
What type of love is that?
My thoughts sear into my brain the same way his hand branded my face. The same words replay in my head, louder each time, fueling the urge to act. I don’t notice that my leg is shaking until Elias places his hand on my thigh to push it down. The contact burns me, so I jolt upright, turning to him, but seeing through him.
“Excuse me, I need to use the bathroom.”
As soon as I’m out of sight, I round the corner and rush to the furthest bathroom from the living room, near the main entrance. My rage is a tsunami that threatens to swallow me whole and leave destruction in its wake.
When I enter the bathroom, the first thing in sight is the decorative towel rack drilled into the wall. This bathroom is new, so they are still working on it. Locking the door behind me I bang my hands against the wall twice, then reach for the towel rack and pull, punch, and fight the metal pole, if only to release the pent up energy. After a few minutes, it falls off, taking me backward with my own force.
Against the wall with heaving breaths, I look up to find my reflection. Deep brown eyes, framed by thick lashes, hold a quiet intensity as I study myself. It only pisses me off further, so I slam the rack against the mirror. A giggle escapes me, but it carries an edge of malice. The bar in my hands comes crashing down onto the tub beside me until it snaps in half and I’m sliding down the wall in a heap of manic laughter. It mixes in with my tears, growing louder as it hits me.
This must be rock bottom. Even if I had someone to talk to, I genuinely do not know how to talk to anyone without fear of my demons crawling out and scaring them away. There is something rotten inside of me, and I’m beginning to think I should embrace it.
Mama always said anger isn’t ladylike, but what do you call this urge that makes my fingers twitch whenever I hold the kitchen knife? What about the itch in my hands when I’m preparing a meal and notice poisonous chemicals nearby? If it isn’t anger, it must be something worse.
Tools are scattered around, so I run my fingers over the hammer’s cold metal beside me, imagining the sound it would make if it met Elias’ skull. “Not tonight,” I tell myself forthe umpteenth time. But the thought alone feels like power. Freedom. Hope.
Yet, that mantra is starting to feel a little less convincing. A small voice whispers,‘What if you act on your urges?’ ‘Embrace it.’ ‘They pushed you here.’My reflection in the shard of glass tells me everything I need to know.
Tonight might just be the night.
Something about the newly crisp November air feels just right. Perhaps I should have a little bonfire to lift my spirits? The smile that takes over my face is borderline demonic.
And I love it.
A knock on the bathroom door snaps me out of the fantasy momentarily. “What’s going on? Are you talking to someone in there?” Elias asks from the other side.
I push myself up off the ground and compose myself as I look around the small space. The side of my lip quirks up before I respond, “Everything’s fine in here.” With one final look at the shattered pieces of the mirror, it clicks. “Just getting off the phone with my mom, you know how she is.” I hear his footsteps retreating after some muffled words and slip out of the bathroom. “Hey, sorry for upsetting you earlier,” I say with a sweet smile before he reaches the living room again, despite the words feeling like acid tumbling out of my mouth.
Elias turns with a cocky smirk. “There she is. Are you ready to make it up to me? Is that why you came here, to have some fun?”
Tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, I put on my best act while staying close to the exit. “Actually, I came by becausemi mamawanted me to invite you over for dinner tonight. You know how she is, always wanting to make things more personal than a phone call. Sadly, I’m stuck helping her with the prep work, so I have to run back. Will we see you later tonight? I’ll make it up to you then.”
A myriad of emotions cross his face, the few beers doing nothing to conceal them. “Of course, you’ll see me there. I can never say no to Mama,” he smirks strangely, but I dismiss myself and run to my bike before he can change his mind about letting me leave.
The day is still young, but that house is still the last place I want to be. Letting my bike guide me through the hidden trails, I enjoy the stillness of the field beyond. Tall trees cast eerie shadows in the distance, creating strange patterns in broad daylight. Overgrown big bluestem grass almost creates a pretty-looking maze, one I’d definitely get lost in at nighttime. By the time I come to a stop, I’m not surprised at where I end up.
Hollow Graves is a local cemetery that happens to be a few blocks away from my house. No one ever comes, at least not when I’m here. This place is the next best thing. Oddly enough, it’s my favorite place. Most people think of ghosts or death when they hear the word cemetery, but this graveyard fills me with peace and a sense of safety I can’t find anywhere else.
My butt finds a familiar spot right under the most beautiful tree, a Twisted Hawthorn, so strong and full of life despite being surrounded by so much death and darkness.
This is the perfect place to figure out the game plan. There’s still so much to decide on, so much to think over. One thing is set in stone, Elias and Bianca will come face to face with my wrath, even if it’s the last thing I do.
There is only one way to end this madness once and for all. Destruction. Elias never has and never will let me go, not unless I truly do something about it. Anytime I try to leave him, he cries to my mother about how horrible I’ve been to him, but he still wants to make it work because he loves me. He will show up every single day, and she will let him go into my room until I forgive him, not caring that he can easily overpower me.
No more.
Sparking the emergency joint I keep in the seat stash of my bike, I let my lungs fill with the calming smoke as new ideas blend together, soothing my nerves. This is the only way I can get through the day without losing my shit. Even when I’m high, I feel the conviction in my bones.
Table of Contents
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