Help Me Make It Through The Night

February 12, 2011
By MorganWhite BRONZE, St-Joseph-du-Lac, Other
MorganWhite BRONZE, St-Joseph-du-Lac, Other
3 articles 1 photo 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
Love has no gender :)

Her skin is white as snow, her hair black as night, and her lips as red as the blood she lay in.
She doesn't dare move, and the only breath that escapes her lips are soft whimpers.

Nothing covers her pale body, nothing except bloodied hand prints that cover her breasts and inner thighs.

Her soft brown eyes are flooded with tears.
She couldn't move, her body paralyzed in absolute fear.
Nobody had ever touched her in that way. Nobody had ever defiled her that way.
He'd threatened her life if she were to mouse a word. Who could she tell? What was she to say?
She was to say nothing. He promised her he'd be back. He always came back. He'd done this before. He always did this. But this time she wouldn't take it. Not anymore. This time he gave her no choice.

He punched her. Threw her to the down. Pinned her to the floor. And when he pulled out his knife she screamed. He cut her dress to ribbons, cut her brazier off her chest, her drawers off her waist, and forced himself inside her.

Her lips stained in blood, she let tears escape down her pale face, dragging dark mascara with them, leaving stains of black down her cheeks.

She pushed off the floor, her body aching. She cried out in pain, but pushed. She limped all the way to the bathroom, where she started a hot bath. She turned to the mirror while the bath ran, and a whole new set of tears made their way to her eyes. Her cracked lips dripped with blood, making its way down her chest.
Her face bruised and swollen, she took a fresh face cloth, soaked it in the warm running bath water. She looked at herself in the mirror one last time before pressing the warm cloth to her face. She yelped and pulled the cloth from her face, the sting of pain proving to be too much. She didn't bother wiping the tears this time, she just stopped the bath water, and climbed into the steamy water. When her bruised body had become totally engulfed in the water, she let out a painful scream, but remained in the scalding water.
She needed to get him off her.

Tear after tear escaped her brown eyes, and her body turned beet red from the swelling.
When her body adjusted to the temperature, she grabbed the shaving razor from the soap holder.
She looked at it and let a sob escape her broken lips. She dragged the razor down and across her bruised wrists; blood began to pour into the water as it escaped her wrists, creating a faucet of their own. She did the same to the other wrist.
Her hands began to shake, and she dropped her arms down into the water. The blood stained razor floated silently in the red pool.
A sad smile made its way across her swollen lips. She let out another sob, and closed her eyes.

'No more..', she thought.
'He won't hurt me anymore.'
Tears splashed, creating silent rippled in the red water.

She's safe now.

The author's comments:
Not my best work. I've had writers block forever. I think this is me getting back on track.

Similar Articles


This article has 2 comments.

Krystal said...
on Mar. 6 2011 at 11:37 pm

Amazing, simply amazing!

Great effort, keep on going!

katb said...
on Feb. 15 2011 at 9:09 pm
very deep my love.


MacMillan Books

Aspiring Writer? Take Our Online Course!