Just Another Night In "Paradise"

 

          I sit in my closet panting. I can hear your footsteps outside of my room. I swallow hard and silence my breath. Pounding starts on my bedroom door. I clench my eyes shut and hear a loud bang. You finally break down my door. It’s not the first time we’ve needed to re-hinge it.  I twitch. Your footsteps stop suddenly as you growl and then rush somewhere I’m not sure of.
“Damnit!” you shout and run past my hiding space. You found my open window. I sigh in gratitude. You’re oblivious sometimes. I soon fall asleep. My dreams take me on an adventure before I wake again. It’s dark and I can hear you stomping around. I hear you muttering to yourself angrily. You’re waiting for me, But I’m not coming in that way. I smirk to myself. You’re so silly it’s ridiculous. “Where the hell are you?!” you shout in disarray. I want to chuckle, But I know better than that. I don’t want karma to attack. I calm myself. I know if I was to react in any way, Then my fate would be sealed. My heart begins to race, Thoughts jumble. I silence myself again. You storm in and look around. You’re impatient. I watch you through the crack in the door. You know, The one you stabbed out with that obnoxious knife of yours? Your face is reddening.

                I gulp and sit back. My stomach starts to get squeamish. You hear and rush to the door. You swing it open in one hit. The chilled air slaps me in the face. You’re furious. I expected nothing less. I tricked you.My stomach drops, Making it feel worse. I know what’s coming. You crack your knuckles. I grit my teeth. You grab my wrists when I throw my hands up to defend myself. You drag me out and toss me aside on the floor. I hurt my butt when I land. I flinch. You kick my stomach and punch my face. I hurl over in pain and lurch out the little sitting in my stomach. You smirk. You always do. My pain always entertains you. You’re sick.

      

         You hunch over me and pick me up by my collar. You threaten me, Your grip hardening around my throat. My breathing thins. I plead for you to let go. Your eyes gleam with hatred and wickedness. I look away only to have my chin wretched back in your direction. I can’t stand looking at your face. It makes me sick to the point where I want to vomit. Your white hair falls to your shoulders, And that pale complexion that’s almost perfect, Gleaming in the moonlight. I hate it. I tear at your arm, Making you bleed. I hear you laugh a sinister laugh. I bite my tongue as to not say anything devious in return. I squeeze my eyes shut again. I don’t want to see your face or feel my pain any longer. You laugh again, The laugh that haunts my dreams at night. Tears stain my face. You pin me to the wall before kneeing me in the groin. You let go as I fall over to hold myself. You shove my face into a pillow, Not that I’m having trouble enough breathing already. I flail my arms. You chuckle and hold me down. You pull out that dreadful knife. You taunt me with it. My eyes fill with horror, I know. You tell me that everything would be fine if I did as I was told. I don’t believe it. You’re a compulsive liar.

      

      I stand and run towards my broken door. You trip me. I yelp. I fall down the stairs outside of my room. I lay there for a moment and shake my head. Besides for pain, I’m alright. Nothing's broken. Not this time around. You come down and drag me back up by my hair. Another scream escapes my lips and I walk with you as best as I can. You thrust me against my desk. I hear it crack under my weight. It wasn’t meant for this. I’m going to need a new one soon. I start to slide to the ground. I’m cornered. When I'm half way down, You grab my wrist. I thrash about like a fish out of water, My other hand trying to free my doomed one. Your grip is too strong. You slit my wrist. I scream in agonizing fury. They always believe that I just have issues of my own, The kids at school. That I’m “emo” and cut myself. But it’s not me, Oh no. It’s you. I pull back my wrist just so you can grab it again and slice. I try to muffle my hysterics. I feel sick. You smirk again and kick my stomach. I will never forget that pain. You stand up straight and wipe some blood off of your face. My blood. You look down your nose at me. I huddle into myself, Almost in a ball. I cradle my left wrist in my right. It needs to be cleaned. Blood trickles onto the floor from the new wounds I obtained, A gash on my face and new slice marks on my wrist. Not to mention the countless bruises all over my pathetic body. I start to feel queasy. I can taste blood on my tongue and my stomach’s a knot. I whimper in fear.

          

     Claustrophobia kicks in and settles over me like the dark does to the day. That’s when I start to cough. Coughing turns into hacking. Blood spurts out of my mouth like a broken water fountain. You step back in disgust. You don’t want me vomiting blood on your new shoes. My eyes start to see black, Surrounded by pretty rainbow colours. You shove me back with the bottom of your foot and take another step back. I start to choke before I crawl to my hands and knees again. I finally gain my composure and wipe my mouth of saliva. You shake your head. You shove me back with your foot again. It makes me lose my breath. I hate that feeling. I grow weak. I gasp desperately. It doesn’t make any difference. I ask for you to stop again. You call me a worthless mutt before walking out on me. You always leave me like this. Alone, Cold and in pain. It’s no different than every other time. I silence my tears.

           

    After I catch my breath, I stand and stumble into the bathroom. I stare at myself in horror before slamming my fist into it and breaking the glass. The shards fall over me like rain on flowers. I can’t stand the sight of myself and wish I was never born. I slide against the wall to the floor in tears. I huddle myself and sob. All you do is shout at me to shut up. I scream back. You come up and hurl insults at me in the doorway. I argue for once, Only to get a slap in the face. You then slam the door and stomp back down the stairs. After some time on the floor, I clean myself from head to toe, Watching pinkish blood flow down the shower drain near my feet. I start to think as the hot water flows over me. No matter how hard I scrub, I still feel dirty. I rub myself raw, My skin turning bright red. It burns. I dry myself off and wrap the towel around my torso. It’s like a soft blanket. I start to tear up but catch myself before I do, Hold my head high and walk back into my bedroom. I get dressed and clean the room myself. Lord knows you won’t. I change my sheets and toss them aside. I look around the room in absolute fear. I can’t wait until I’m out of here, Never to return again. I sigh and lay my clean self in my clean bed. I can hear your drunken slurs at the television from up here. I pray silently before I drift off to sleep into nightmares. Maybe tomorrow will be better, Or maybe you’ll finally kill me instead. Either way would be good, I guess. Right?