Defeating Agony

I fall into the arms of hell. The pain envelopes me like an old friend. The pain is so great it becomes my pleasure. It takes me away to a world unknown. I am pulled back to the world I know, I look around it is so dark, I cannot see what is before me. I am on the floor, that I know.

My head feels heavy, my memory hazy… In a moment it all comes back to me. I hear a scream inside my head, a scream that escaped my mouth before I fell, before I went into that world.

He punched my face with a look of anger and hate. It breaks my heart while he breaks my face. All it took was a night out with a friend for his nose to flare and his eyes to burn with hate. All it took was his insecurity and a couple of drinks for him to send my body into never ending agony and my heart into scattered pieces.

He shoves me down into the ground, while I whimper in a corner he kicks me in the gut, with all his might he kicks and kicks. The pain is unbearable but still I stay awake, awake for this moment of fearful agony.

I have seen this before, in the movies, in the talk shows, when a man treats his woman like nothing but his punching bag. I listened to all their stories and imagined myself in that situation. I imagined stopping his hand mid punch, protecting myself in any and every way. But here I lay in unending agony and all I did at that horrific moment was stare blankly at his face. The shock paralyzing my every muscle, blocking my every move, allowing me only to whimper in that bloody corner.

With every kick I cry inside feeling beaten and broken. I want to scream but the only voice I had came out in that one futile scream.

I lie here in the dark with thoughts of love that once existed. Of times that made my heart boom and my stomach fill with butterflies. All I have now is the hate I saw in his eyes. That hate I see in you is cutting deeper than a knife. I feel it in me. I feel it growing. Stirring something deep within.

I see now that I have a mission. A mission I refuse to abandon. There is a force from deep within, driving me. I lift myself but fall back down.  I no longer feel the pain, but my body does not possess the will that my head has now acquired. I am so weak. How can this be? ‘You have to help me! Help me! Please! ‘I beg my body to gain the strength that I need.

I fall again, and again. I implore my body and will it to lift. With all my might I lift myself. I crawl on through the darkened room, holding my side, willing myself to stay up long enough to do what I have to do.

I crawl on through to where I know we have OUR kitchen. I pull myself up to my full length, supporting myself on anything I can grab a hold off. I do not turn on the lights. No. I do not want to wake you. I walk along the kitchen counter and come to a stop and reach for our kettle. I plug it in and switch it on. I laugh inside on how bizarre this feels. I hear it simmer as it comes to a boil. I grab the handle with shaky hands. I walk on through the doors heading straight to OUR bedroom. I know the way, I need no lights. All I need is the will to fight.

I walk on through OUR double doors and walk to where I see yous beautifully sculpted silhouette, you seem at peace. You seem like the man I love… For just one second I love again. For just one second I want it all back.

I push away the sentimental thoughts and walk on to your lovely body. When I see your face, so calm, so collected, so at peace, I feel the anger burn within, the hate and vile boiling over. The love has gone away. All I have is scattered pieces of my heart and a hate I cannot comprehend.

I step closer to the bed. Writhing in pain I bend over. I kiss your lips and feel you stir. I use my free hand to move the hair from your face. You open your eyes and smile that charming smile. Ooh that smile, what it would do to me if I let I, what it used to do to the inner very parts of my body. now, now all I have is hate.

I stand over you as you look at me. It is so hard to stand. My legs feel as though they are carrying a ton and are about to buckle over but I must do this and I must see that beautiful face as I do.

With all my remaining energy, I pour the hot water from the kettle onto that lovely face. A second before it hits your face, I see such terror and horror filling every part of it. The kettle drops from my hand. I can’t help but smile, almost laugh at the expression you bare. You scream as I watch and smile at my victory.

You push me out of your way and I fall like a sack of potatoes onto the floor. I hear you screaming down the hall, so scared and hurt and shocked. I feel a sense of relief fill my body.

I have completed my mission, now I can go far, far away into the world of the unknown…

Reviews

[Nastia]

thank u both for the lovely comments means alot

[petah]

hi pal. who says that Kenya (and East Africa) is a literary desert? this story probably brushes this allegations the wrong way. So creatively crafted that I had to produce a hard copy of it and read in the house while relaxed. that poetic rhyming is surely nice; making the story readable. However, we are all descended from Adam and Eve; we have to commit mistakes. And I have noticed few in the story. For instance; the word"envelopes" in the second sentence I guess it's wrongly used. You don't expect a friend to envelope (encircle you). Anyway, all together, the story is great. It is literally brotherly with one of my own. There is a lot of reality in Nastia's story; dumping lovers is the order of the day. keep it up!

[Riding the Rainbow]

Unfortunately this is the reality we live in ans it breaks my hurt..