Dear Diary [Part 1]

  I once asked “What is love?”

Sure the best actually spoken answer I got was from a guy. He said love is wanting to spend the rest of your life with someone. That you could be stranded on an island forever and not care, because you are with someone that you love. The fact that you care for someone just that much, that you would do anything for them. And you just couldn’t see yourself without them.

                   Maybe it’s true.

                                      Maybe it’s not.

Who on this earth really loves me? Honestly, could spend forever with me? Who knows about….”

     The door slightly cracks as a worn out notebook is closed shut and shoved under the covers. You can hear the creaks on the floor as he slips closer to her bed. She shuts her eyes, inhaling the smell of whiskey, praying. Not this time.

     She could tell he was drunk, simply by the way his slurred words rolled out of his mouth. She knew what was coming, just as it did every night. Terror still took her breath way. A hand slid under the covers covering her mouth, pulling her out of her secure bed.

         His pants were already unzipped.

      She prayed and closed her eyes, feeling him inside her. Feeling his hands touching her. But it was almost like she wasn’t there. She had gotten really good at that, looking from the outside looking in. Just as always he followed his routine; fuck her, hold her, threaten her, and then throw her back into her bed. Through out the whole thing she stays quiet, knowing that her life depends on it. Last time she spoke out he did it again, and again, until even her screams could only be heard in her own head.

     The next morning she is quiet, like always. The breakfast table is full of chaos. No one ever notices her changes in moods, no one ever realizes. No one really loves her.