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828 Words
Cain still looks like the same sweet man I know whenever he's asleep. No one would ever think he's capable of doing the things he did to me last night.
I buried my face in the pillow.
I never thought things would come to this.
It was all fun and games until he caught me. And what about James? Is he really dead?
A shiver ran down my spine. Death isn't new to me—my parents passed away—but I've never had someone I knew get killed.
Especially not because of me.
I just hope he's lying.
The bed shifted, and an arm draped over me.
"What's the matter?" Cain's voice was laced with sleep as he rubbed my back. I didn't answer. I just relaxed my body, keeping my face pressed against the pillow.
I got hours of sleep, and I'm still so damn tired.
"You okay?" His question made my heart clench.
I'm exhausted.
"Yeah." I lied.
Silence settled between us. Minutes passed. It was awkward, suffocating. I wanted to move, to make noise, but I had no energy left. My body ached from what he did to me last night.
But I just needed something—anything—to cover my heavy breathing. It was getting harder to breathe. I felt like I was choking.
And somehow, Cain knew.
"I'll prepare breakfast." He didn't wait for an answer before getting up. I didn't watch as he left the room.
But the moment the door shut, I let the tears fall.
I sobbed into the pillow.
I know this is my fault. Something happened between me and James while I was still with Cain. It was my mistake. I'm a dirty woman.
At first, I was in denial, trying to find a way to blame Cain for why I sought comfort elsewhere. But now, I know—I know this is on me. That's why I let him keep me in this house, away from my friends, my job, my life. Everything that's happening to me now, the way he treats me—I deserve it. That's why I don't fight back. That's why I let him do whatever he wants.
But with each passing day, trapped in this house, I feel like a dog in chains. I'm no longer his girlfriend. I am his c*m dumpster. A possession he owns. My goal is to fix us, to make up for what I did, to earn his forgiveness so we can go back to how things used to be. But I'm failing. I don't think I can keep going anymore. I bit off more than I could chew, and now my stupid decisions are here to punish me.
I can't help but wish I would just die.
I didn't even realize I had fallen asleep again. I guess I'm back to my old, depressed self—escaping reality through sleep.
The clock on the wall read 3:00 PM. Cain was lying beside me again, his back turned. At least he didn't wake me up.
Carefully, I sat up, trying not to disturb him. My whole body ached, but that was nothing new. I wasn't numb to the pain yet, but I was used to it.
I reached for the pack of cigarettes on the table. I know I'm not allowed, but what's he going to do if he catches me? Punish me? f**k me to death? He does that every damn time he wants to.
It's been like this for so long that I'm starting to fear myself.
I'm scared—because I'm not scared of him anymore.
All I feel is exhaustion.
I sat on the veranda floor, naked. Tears pricked my eyes. Cain used to dress me after s*x, but that was before I betrayed him. Now, he just leaves me bare after using me to relieve his frustrations.
I laughed bitterly. It's fine. I don't deserve respect anyway.
I took a long drag from the cigarette. The sky was darkening, heavy with rain clouds, but there was a small patch of light in the distance. I stared at it.
I guess I really am slipping away from my sanity.
"Hi, Mom." I smiled at the sky.
"Sorry if you have to see me like this." I pressed my thighs together and covered my bare chest. I exhaled a cloud of smoke.
"I miss you." I buried my face against my knees.
"I wonder what you'd tell me to do if you were alive, Mom." My voice was barely a whisper.
I let out a hollow laugh and leaned my head against the wall, taking another drag of my cigarette. Then I laughed again. And again.
Now what? I'm talking to my dead mother. Even in the afterlife, I'm probably giving her a headache.
"f**k, I'm going crazy." Tears streamed down my face as the realization hit me.
If I don't die or leave this place soon...
I will lose my mind.
- Writer
