Writing Exercise I

It filled her mouth with the taste of iron. She spat and the red stain stood in sharp contrast to the white speckled floors. She shifted her gaze up slowly and saw him bouncing around. His movement was almost a little too much for her so she squinted her eyes.

He was lying. She could tell. His lips were moving. Then she noticed that she could not hear him, or anything for that matter, beyond that insufferable ringing that filled her head. She closed her eyes slowly, trying to will the ringing away. It died down to a minor annoyance but it was still so dominant that she could hear nothing else.

She opened her eyes and watched him bouncing still. He was bragging now. Telling her how he had beaten her, how a little girl should not have tried to stand up to him, how he was going to have his way with her once she had learned her place. She still could not hear him but she was sure that was what he was saying.

The taste of iron filled her mouth again and she spat once more before swallowing hard. Her vision had a blue edge to it as unconscious had been threatening to overtake her. She might have a concussion. She should be laying down. Oh wait. She was laying down.

She had been leaning back on her elbows but now she sat up and put first one foot and then the other beneath her and slowly rose on unsteady legs. She had closed her eyes as she stood, hoping to keep down the nausea, hoping to hold back the fear.

Fear? Yes. She was always afraid at first. Until the rage came. She could feel it now, clawing at the back of her mind, teasing, tormenting, begging to be released. Her eyes opened fully again and she saw him smiling his fool smile.

He was pretty. His eyes were large and round with eyelashes that were as long and as full as hers were. His eyebrows were strong and full. His nose was perfectly compact. His lips were full and pouty. Only his cheeks and his jaw portrayed his masculinity and the contrast between the feminine and masculine features just made him all the more attractive. She wanted to smash those beautiful pearly teeth in and close those gorgeous eyes under blood filled bruises.

He could read the hatred in her face and it only made him laugh. The blue was receding from her vision and the ringing in her ears subsided enough that she could hear him now.

“Oh baby, you never looked prettier than you do with a little blood on that porcelain doll’s face.”

She took licked her lips and took the bottom one into her mouth and then spat again, but this time there was no blood. He had marred her face? She had hoped that it was blood on her lips that he was talking about, but it wasn’t. Somewhere on her face there was a cut and he had put it there. She would not give him the satisfaction of watching her feel around for it with her hands. She felt the rage rising.

“Oh baby, you don’t look so good. You’ve gotta work on your staying power. That was just the introduction sweetie. Just wait until I show you what these hands can really do. And just wait until I start to do other things.”

His smile touched the bottom of her stomach and she worked to hold back the vomit that tried to issue forth. The blue had left her vision completely and the ringing was now gone. She let the rage rise uncontrolled and felt the blood and adrenaline race through her body.

He was talking again and she could not hear him. But this time his voice was kept at bay by the power she felt inside herself. She smiled then and that stupid grin was frozen on his face. That insipid grin of the ignorant, the imbecilic, the utterly unredeemable… She launched herself toward him intent on wiping it off.

Part I.

Start the Conversation