QUEEN

8:49PM, Alfred street. "Do you believe in love?" Andres, the main character in my favorite TV show asked Maria, his love interest. If I was asked, my reply would be no! No, I don't believe in love, at least not anymore. It has taken me hundreds of punches and bleeding wounds to accept this reality. Love was a fantasy that I just wasn't privileged to get. I sat on the sofa, the sitting room lit up by the light from the TV I was watching. I struggled to pick the remote at my side because my right arm was still sore from shielding my face from the bat Marcus swung at me the previous week. It wasn't always like this, me and Marcus. He wasn't always an abusive boyfriend who wouldn't bat an eye when swinging a bat at his girlfriend. I grew up in a normal happy home with my loving parents. I believed in fairy tales and always dreamt of my prince charming that would come to me on his golden horse and make me his princess, that was until I lost my dad at the age of seven. When he died, the happiness my family had was buried along with him. My mom became confused and disoriented and I almost didn't know who she was anymore. She started drinking and was always depressed and crying. I was scared and alone but there was no one to talk to. My grades began to drop but my mom couldn't care less. I pushed through all these pain until I was 14. Then one day, after what seemed like forever, my mom smiled. I had even forgotten what she looked like when she smiled but now she is actually smiling. I figured my mom was seeing this man she met a couple of weeks ago and she was confident she had found love again and was willing to try getting into a relationship again. I was a bit skeptical about having a step father but I wanted what's best for my mom so I obliged. They both got married and we moved to his house. My mom was always too busy focusing on her work and new husband to even notice I was existing. Like that wasn't enough, my mom became pregnant. After she gave birth to my half brother I became as useless and insignificant as a coat rack. The only time my mom remembered me was when she needed help doing something. I believe the changes my mom's body underwent while she was pregnant must have turned my step dad off. He started sneaking into my room at night and touching me inappropriately. I couldn't say a word as he threatened to kill me if I told anyone. That wasn't exactly what I was scared of, I wasn't scared of dying, my life was meaningless anyways but I was scared of snatching my mom's happiness from her. She might not love me like she used to but I still love her more than anything. I endured everything my step father did to me till my second year in high school when I met a guy called Marcus. Marcus is that guy. He is sweet, loving, caring, brave and extremely attractive. He had all the ladies drooling over him but I was too busy holding on to my life to join them. Despite all the pretty girls swarming him, Marcus noticed me. If Marcus was good at something it was reading people. He must have noticed how detached I was from society and approached me. With a little chit here and a chat there we started engaging in conversations. His presence always calmed me and he was a good listener. I felt so secure around him that I opened up to him about my family issues, a secret I have never told anyone in my life. Marcus was so sweet and encouraging and I felt the warmth I haven't felt from anyone in a long time from him. I fell in love with him and a short while later he asked me to be his girlfriend. My relationship with Marcus was the silver lining in my life. He was all I ever needed and more. That was until the day I moved into his house. I told Marcus about the things my step father did to me and he proposed that I report him to the cops. I refused and he advised me to come live with him in his house. Marcus told me his parents were living far away and he was the only one living in his house. I moved in because I trusted him, a mistake I regretted till my dying day. Everything was going on well between the both of us until after our college entrance exams. My results were so terrible that even a community college wouldn't accept me. Marcus on the other hand got a scholarship. I was so happy for him. I worked at a fast food restaurant while he went to school. Our lives were so perfect and beautiful until he began to change during his sophomore year. He started acting cold towards me and was barely coming home anymore. We might have not been married but we were already living a married life. Marcus started coming home drunk and I feared for his grades. I tried to talk him out of it but he wouldn't listen. I was patient and understanding until the day I found out he was cheating on me. I angrily confronted him asking for an explanation and instead he slapped me. I was short of words. Afterwards he begged me saying he was under the influence of what he drank and that he would never try it again. Well that was the first of many, Marcus turned me to a punching bag and emotion trash can where he poured all his anger whenever he was pissed. I had to put up everything he did because I didn't have anywhere or anyone to run to. I had to live with his toxic and abusive behavior with hopes that one day he would change because all I could do was hope. That was until that night, the night that changed it all. I was still seated on the sofa, deeply immersed in the show I was watching. The door banged open and Marcus walked. I flinched. My body trembled in fear as he entered. His tanned olive colored skin was glowing from being drenched in sweat. His brown eyes filled with nothing but rage. I see those scary gaze from him everyday but that never made the feeling easier. I wished the sofa could swallow me up and save me from whatever wrath Marcus was preparing to unleash on me. He didn't seem to be in a good mood. Actually he is never in a good mood but today seemed a little over the edge. "Welcome." I grumbled as I greeted him, my voice trembling. He didn't utter a word as he stormed past me and then froze. He turned to me. "I want to eat roasted chicken for dinner." He commanded with a harsh tone. 'What?!' I exclaimed in my thoughts. 'How exactly does he expect me to prepare roasted chicken for him with my sore arm and most importantly we can't even afford that!' "I already prepared Ramen before you came." I uttered my voice quivering as I avoided meeting his eyes. The room was silent for like five seconds but even the silence was loud. Marcus sighed and leaned on my sofa. On hearing him sigh my heart nearly split into two. Nothing good has ever come out of Marcus' sigh. I braced myself for whatever was coming and as expected, a deafening slap landed on my cheeks. I lost balance and rolled off the sofa, landing on my sore arm. I groaned in pain, before I could sulk in the pain I was going through I received a painful kick on my abdomen. For a couple seconds I lost my breath from the impact of the kick. He pinned me to the ground with his body weight, his knee pressing hard on my sore arm. He began landing a series of punches and slaps on me.aa I tried to shield what I could with my other good arm, as I groaned in pain. I dare not make a noise, that would only make him more furious, so I had to cry as silently as I could. After he had beaten me up till his heart content, Marcus stood up from my body and sat on the sofa right beside me. "Why do you always make me do this?" He asked me. He always ended every abuse with a stupid question, always trying to make me feel like this is all my fault. "Do you think I derive pleasure from hurting you? You just have a way of always pissing me off even when I try to be in a good mood, Tasha." He continued. I wasn't hearing a s**t from all the things he was whining about. I was in too much pain to even give a damn. I was blank minded until I heard him say, "I am pretty sure you got this bitchy attitude from your mother." Marcus can insult me all he wants but even he knows the limit to my patience is hearing my mom insulted. "Like you got yours from your father." I snapped back. Those words slipped out of my mouth and I immediately regretted saying them. Marcus took his father as seriously as I took my mother, by calling his father I pressed the wrong button. I would have stood up and ran out if only it didn't hurt too much to stand up. Marcus stood up from the sofa and headed upstairs. My eyes widened in horror. I knew he was going upstairs to get his bat. That was not good! Despite how weak I was, I crawled to the kitchen. If Marcus has gone to carry his bat, it means he is willing to leave me with a cracked bone this night, that is if he is not planning to kill me. I am still suffering from the injury I sustained from that bat the previous week and I won't let him land another hit today without doing something. The kitchen was dim, the only source of light was the bright moon outside. I was used to the kitchen surroundings and quickly headed for the cupboard. I took out a knife and soon heard the room door upstairs slam shut. "God help me that I won't be the one to murder you tonight, Tasha!" Marcus yelled as he hurled downstairs. I gulped in fear as I heard his footsteps descending from the stairs. He stopped at the sitting room and when he couldn't find me he knew I would be in the kitchen. I hid the knife behind me so that he could bring his guard down when he saw me. The kitchen door slammed open and Marcus raged in with the bat in his hand. "I told you to keep my father's name out of your filthy mouth!" He yelled as he approached. He yanked my hair and used them to drag me out of the kitchen. He didn't see the knife I was hiding and when he wasn't looking I used every strength in me to stab the knife straight into his foot. He let out a deafening scream as he tripped. Ignoring his state I gathered strength and began crawling for the door. I believed if I went out someone was bound to see me and save me from this monster. My hopes were cut short as I felt a nerve wrecking pain at the back of my head. I was certain I heard something crack, it was either my skull or the bat Marcus hit me with. For about twenty seconds I was in confusion. I couldn't think, I couldn't hear and could barely see. By the time I gained a little consciousness, I realized Marcus had dragged me away from the door. The next thing I knew his hands were on my neck. Before I could tell what was going on, he began to strangle me. I couldn't fight him off. I knew Marcus was a monster but I never actually thought he could harbor the thought to kill me. Despite what we both had, despite all we have been through. It was at this moment I realized I never lived. I only existed. I spent my entire life sacrificing my own happiness for someone else's. Burning my own flesh just to make someone warm. Despite all I did for my mom, she never came for me. She never tried to check up on me after I left home. If I die today I will be happy that I will at least get to meet daddy again. With him around no one will ever hurt me again. With him around no one will ever make me cry again. As I exhausted my last breath, I felt tears trickle from my eyes. I closed my eyes, hoping they will never get to see this cruel world again.