I remember waking up… instantly I found it hard to breath and within a second I realized something was smothering my face. I practiced this when I was young and knew immediately that my best choice for survival was to take calm, deep breaths and work with my hands to discover what was on top of me. As I slowly lifted my hands up, my arm brushed another’s flesh, and I knew who it was and what they were doing… it destroyed me inside, but I kept my concentration on getting out of the situation.
I felt for his rib cage… caressing his body like he did to me the first night he slept in my bed… I found it and began to dig my thumbnails between two of his ribs on each side… as I did this, I could hear him getting frustrated and he began to push the pillow harder over my face… his grumbles and moans made me flash back to his hearty laugh… his beautiful smile and bright sparkling eyes… Even with thoughts like these running through my head, I continued to dig my thumbs harder and harder into his side, until *pop* my nails broke the skin.
His scream hurt my soul… I wish this wasn’t happening… I wish he didn’t have to feel this pain… I wish he would love me like he used to…
After my thumbs were completely submerged in to his body threw thick wet wounds, he still tried to bury my face with the pillow he’s allowed me to use since I’ve moved in with him… why… why would he try and end it like this…? I don’t understand who he is anymore or where his logic is coming from…
Since he refused to stop… I did too… I ripped my thumbs back, following the shape of his ribs towards his spine… as I did this, his body quivered in pain, his muscles growing weak, but his frustration and stubborn determination growing heavier. Every ounce of anger weighing down onto this pillow, it’s almost like nothing but murdering me matters to him, not even his own pain…
The last thing I had to do to get him off of me was the hardest for my oxygen deprived conscience to follow through with… but nonetheless, I felt an urge to survive unlike I have ever felt before… I stuck my fingers into the long ridged rips along his beautifully bulk and beefy body, gripped them around a rib on each side, and with all the strength I could conjure up, I ripped my arms away from his body, cracking and tearing his ribs out… This final blow finally got him off of me and I was able to escape…
I thrust my body upward and threw him off of me. I felt dizzy, and darkness began to close in… but all I had to do was make it to the living room… with that much pain, he wasn’t going anywhere… I fell from wall to wall until I was able to collapse on the couch and gather my thoughts as the static in my head slowly faded away… once I felt as though the oxygen replenished in my head, I grabbed my phone and called him an ambulance…
I waited outside, I couldn’t handle hearing his grunts and whining from utter, inrelinquishing pain… I also didn’t explain what happened until the police arrived and began asking questions about his condition… it hurt so bad to tell them what I had done to him, and to watch him be carried away on a stretcher tore my heart out… but he needs more than medical help, he needs mental help, and I knew he would get it if they knew what he had done… I didn’t press charges, but he was still charged and had to go through a whole lot of legal trouble because of me…
I wish I was better so he never felt the urge to put us through this… he doesn’t deserve these confusing and unbearable feelings that brought him to making this rash decision… I hope we can be together again some day, like when we first met…
