2010

Posted: February 9, 2013 in Fiction

I’m trying out something new. I’m finally brave enough to venture sharing some- note, SOME- of the more tolerable fiction I’ve written in the past. I pretty much dropped it like a hot potato when I figured out that a) I suck and b) I really love journalism and blogging. So here you go, the grand ole fiction experiment.

This little fellow here though, he’s brand new. Just wrote him right now because I’d been upset earlier about a friend whose sister was beaten by her boyfriend for all three years of their relationship. The woman is seriously traumatized because she was scared the boy would spread rumours about her. Sick, no?

Why do you like me?

You don’t give me any attitude and you’re simple. Plus you’re cute.

Later, much later, he was more honest.

I had a feeling that you were the easy sort. I figured you were just acting like a Catholic schoolgirl, and even if you weren’t, I knew I could easily coax you into bed by saying I loved you.

At least he was clear about his intentions. Much later. Made it obvious that he wasn’t interested in a relationship. She just wasn’t his type, and that’s not a crime, two people just aren’t made for each other sometimes.

You think I’d ever date a girl who my friends know I fool around with? That I’d introduce such a girl to my mother?

He never did get used to her, after all. She was always too blunt, too straight-forward. Never pretended, never kept secrets, always up front about everything.

Did you just slap me? Did you seriously just- what the FUCK?!

Listen, it’s your fault. You think I was going to let you stand there cussing at me, and let you get away with it? That I won’t react if you use rude language with me?

She was too clingy, too needy. All those daddy issues worked themselves out in epic kinks, but unfortunately, it made her desperate for male attention, male validation. And the more it was denied to her, the more she sought it. The clingier, needier she got. And her hot temper didn’t help matters either.

That hurts! *sobs*

Look, you shoved me okay? You can’t just shove someone and not expect to be punched in return.

*continues sobbing*

Oh come on baby. You know I didn’t mean it. I’ll be nicer to you, promise. It’s your fault, you know I get angry easily. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I’d hit you so hard. I don’t know my own strength.

She hisses in pain suddenly and leans forward on her chair, remembering the sting of nails digging into her back, marks left by teeth that had her sleeping on her stomach for days.

Absent-mindedly, her fingers brush her left eye, remembering how it had purpled, bruised, so many times.

Her thigh twinges in pained memory of a cricket bat smacked into her, fortunately missing her knee, but still making her limp for most of the next week.

She wakes up in the middle of the night, sweating and tears running down her cheeks, the nightmares all too real.

No, stop I don’t want to. Ugh, no, I’m not in the mood. Stop it, get away. Please stop. No, let go! Stop it, please stop you’re scaring me, I don’t want this, stop it just stop, please!

The year ended. So did they. Life went on. Or did it?

Never forget. Never forgive. That’s always been her policy in life. Some things though, she wishes she could forget. Some memories, you can never escape.

Haunted.

Billie Joe Armstrong croons from the speakers about wanting to wake up after September ends.

She wonders if she’s ever going to wake up from 2010.

Advertisements
Comments
  1. Great read, and a very chilling ending.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s