My Prince Charming
Author's note: well, i was in an abusive relationship for almost three years, and i was very young too. and i... Show full author's note »
IntroductionIt was morning. I opened my eyes and quickly closed them again to save them from the burning bright sun shining straight at me from the bedroom window. I covered my face under my blankets wishing to have slept a little longer. As I laid there under my covers trying desperately to fall back to sleep, I failed and decided I might as well just get up and go on with starting my day. I pulled the covers off of my face squinting at the ridiculously bright sun. I looked next to me to find that my husband wasn’t there. Worried, I got up and went to the living room. When a whiff of what smelled like bacon and eggs hit me in my face, I then knew that my husband was in the kitchen. “It must be a good day” I thought to myself. Slowly, I walked to the kitchen to find my husband pouring orange juice into two small glasses. When he was done he put the orange juice back in the refrigerator. He looked up and saw me standing in the kitchen door way. “Good morning my love” he said to me softly.
He sat the glasses of orange juice and two plates of sizzling bacon and steaming eggs on the table. He looked up to find me still standing in the kitchen door way frozen like a statue. “What? A man can’t make his beautiful wife breakfast?” I still stayed where I was at, not knowing what to say or do. “Look, I just wanted to make up for yesterday.” He said. “I’m sorry, you know how I get and it isn’t fair to you so I thought maybe I could make you breakfast to make up for every time I get that way.” I just looked at him for a couple minutes still not saying anything, because I didn’t want to end up saying the wrong thing and then setting him off again. I might as well enjoy this while it lasts.
I walked over to the table and he pulled my chair out for me to sit. I sat down and he walked to the other side of the table and sat too. I waited for him to start eating before I did. We ate in silence. After we ate he took the plates and glasses to the sink to wash them. While he was doing that I got up and decided to take a shower. When I got out of the shower I got dressed and did my hair and makeup. When I was done, I opened the bathroom door slowly and cautiously. I walked out slowly looking around to see if my husband was still in his good mood. When I didn’t see him in the room, I walked to the living room to see if he was there. I looked around and saw him nowhere in sight. I heard a noise in the kitchen so I turned my head and found him on the kitchen floor with his head between his legs rocking back and forth.
Not knowing what to do, I walked into the kitchen slowly and I stopped ten feet in front of him. “Ralph? Are you okay dear?” I asked him nervously. He didn’t say anything. So I took a step closer to him, and then another. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?” I asked him as I took another step closer. “I dropped a plate!” he yelled, making me jump back a couple feet. I looked around for the plate he claimed he dropped. It was on the floor broken into a million pieces next to the table we ate breakfast on. “Oh, that’s okay dear, we can always buy another one” I told him. “No!!” he yelled. “No we can’t!” He then got up and started after me.
As he kept getting closer and closer, I kept stepping back, step after step. “It’s really not a big deal sweetie “I can clean It up” I tried calming him down. “I said NO!” he yelled even louder. I started panicking, wondering what he was going to do this time. He grabbed me and pushed me against the wall. Then he picked up a piece of the broken glass plate that he dropped and slit the side of my face. “Stop it!” I screamed. “Stop it!” He tried cutting me again but I pushed him and he fell on the floor.
I sat there on the floor crying. He got up and started hitting me and punching me, and kicking me. After about thirty minutes he stopped. He went into the bedroom and came out with his jacket. He walked straight for the door without even looking at me or anything and he left. I wiped my tears, and stood up. I went into the restroom and wiped all the blood off of my face. Standing in front of the mirror, I looked at the long cut across the left side of my face. I decided there was no way I could cover it up for work today, so I called myself in sick. After I did that, I changed into sweat pants and a t-shirt, struggling with how sore I was. And then I got into my bed and pulled the covers over me, and just laid there. Then I started crying again. “I can’t do this anymore” I thought to myself.