I prod the wound until it weeps. The pain seems so familiar, yet I know for a fact that I never experienced this before.
A car engine roars to life in the driveway just a few feet from my bedroom window. Wheels grind on the asphalt until the engine’s noise diminishes little by little until there is nothing left.
Screams echo throughout the alcove. It took God knows how long before I realize I am the source of such grotesque sounds.
I quickly learn how to walk again before I reach the bathroom. Both my hands hold on to the edge of the sink so tight that my knuckles feel like they are going to burst out of my skin. Courage aids me in the daunting task of gazing into the mirror before me. Black and blue tints circumvents both my eyes like a sad clown at a pity party. My lower lip is split open. My body aches because it took on more than it could handle.
Blood and semen soaked my white briefs. I should have rinsed off before putting them back on. I’m drenched in sweat and tears.
I could have tried to fight him back, but I didn’t. I let him use me as a means to relinquish his sexual frustrations. He had to compensate for my mother’s gradual act of abstinence. Besides, I’ve always been prettier than my mother. I am honored that he chose me over her, even if it was just for a little while. It felt right knowing that I hurt her when he was hurting me. He needed release and I was the easy target to endure his relentless onslaught of rage.
I could barely feel anything. My mind is numb. That’s its way of dealing with all the complex emotions excreting from the black and blue. Those are my two favorite colors.
I smirk at my reflection in realization of this opaque satisfaction.