Fire Under My Skin

April 7, 2011
My hand was in his. He was on one knee. I felt sick.

“Hannah, I love you so much. You can’t believe it.” His hand was shaking a little. The sterling silver ring was in his hand, waiting for me to take it. How could I? He was evil.

“I need time to, uhh, think.” I stepped back pulling my hand from his.

He stood up and stared at me, his eyes blank.

“Have you never thought of marrying me? Was that to out of question?” His voice was hard and it made me start shaking a little.

“I just…” I never finished, because his hand stunned me when it slapped me across the face. I fell to the floor, his incredible strength frightening. He threw the ring down next to me, it landed by my hand. Its diamond sparkled in the light. He does love me. He stormed out the door, leaving me by myself on the floor with the ring. My cheek burned, felt like fire just under my skin. I stood up slowly, shaking a little still. I scooped up the ring gently. He really does love me.

I hurried into the apartment kitchen. I took an icepack from the freezer and sat at the table. I held the ice pack to my cheek as I examined the ring. It was so pretty. He must have spent so much. I made him mad; it’s my fault this happened. I slipped the ring on. A perfect fit. Like we would be, should be.

I was still at the table when he came back home. I glanced at him as he entered the kitchen. His tennis shoes, expensive Puma’s, made little noise on the tile.

“You’re wearing it?” he seemed slightly shocked. All I could do was nod. He pulled me up out of the chair to him by my arm and close to his face. His breath smelled of beer.

“I love you, Hannah. You love me, too.” And he killed he, greedily, and I didn’t dare try to pull away.

The next morning he woke up late, later than me like normal. I stood in the kitchen looking out the window at the building across from us. I still had my ring on. I felt sick again.

I sat by the toilet, a rotten taste in my mouth. I had been sick. I was worried, too. I climbed across the tiled bathroom floor to the sink, quietly, so not to wake him up. I dug under the sink in the cabinet for the pregnancy test. A brand new box, only one missing. I tried three times, and then I threw up three more times, because his stupid baby was in me. Now he would kill me.





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