I came home to find you waiting for me. Perhaps you weren't waiting for me, but you weren't doing much except tapping your foot and biting your nails, perched anxiously on the edge of the bed.
I walked into the bedroom and sat down next to you. When you looked upset like this, I knew better than to touch you. I wanted to know why you seemed so upset, and I asked you what was wrong. You stopped tapping your foot and biting your nails and turned to me. With a sad smile you said, "You want to get fucked, don't you?"
I couldn't lie. I had been craving your touch, but you looked so distraught. I wanted to hold you more than anything else. Your face softened for a moment, and I could swear I saw a tear form in the corner of your eye. You hung your head and told me that you weren't to be trusted.
I inched closer to you, and I could feel so much warmth coming from your loving heart. I told you again how I just wanted to hold you, and a tear rolled down your cheek. You looked at me with so much sorrow, and said that all you wanted, all you needed, was for me to hold you. I moved my body closer, and you let your weary head fall back onto the white pillow.
I crawled into your open arms and put my head on your chest. I felt so good holding you, knowing that you finally let me in. Lying on your chest, I could hear your heart beating. You stroked my hair and told me that I knew just how to soften you, the tenderness you needed. I turned my head and nuzzled into your chest and kissed you softly over your heart. I whispered that I trust you.
I could see your beauty, and I melted into your embrace. You felt my body relax in your arms, grabbed my shoulders, and squeezed them tight. You lifted me off your chest and looked into my eyes with your dark hollow stare. You reminded me that you weren't to be trusted.
You flipped me on my back so roughly that my head bashed into the corner of the nightstand. I felt a sharp pain in the back of my skull. The loud crack against the wood echoed in the room. I was stunned from the blow and stayed limp in your arms, trusting you.
You picked up my light frame a second time, and you smashed my skull again. You hit my head on the corner so hard that I saw white flash in my eyes. Pain radiated from my open wound, and I lay still in your grip. I looked up at you with so much love and so much fear, and you lifted me again. You cracked my skull a third time, on that same corner of finished wood.
I blacked out for a moment from the blow. You were still holding me, and all I could feel was a dull and endless ache in the back of my head. I opened my eyes and saw blood splattered on the white walls. When I saw my blood, I was so terrified, and so angry. Adrenaline surged through my veins, and I flipped you onto your back. I pinned you down and cried out, "Why did you hit my head so hard? Why did you make me bleed? Why did you hurt me like this?"
I hovered over you, and my open head wound dripped fresh blood onto your pale skin. Upon seeing my bloodshed, I spit on you in the center of your chest. You looked up at me and laughed. You asked me how I could possibly expect anyone to love me with such an ugly gaping wound in my head. I started feeling dizzy. I lost the strength to hold myself up.
You caught me in your arms and held me tight. I told you that I didn't feel well. You gently soothed me and told me that you were going to fix this. You were going to make everything better. You cradled my weak body in your arms and carried me to the bathroom. My head left a trail of blood as you carried me.
I couldn't support my own weight, and I could barely keep my eyes open. You gently placed me in the bathtub and set a soft towel under my throbbing head. You ran the warm water to fill the tub and told me to relax and lay still. You wanted me to save my energy.
You looked so upset. You were so mad at yourself for hurting me like this, but I didn't have the words to tell you that everything was going to be okay. You paced back and forth, muttering to yourself that you had made this mess and now you needed to clean it up. You looked back at me, my pallid face, the dark circles forming under my eyes, and I still looked at you with so much desperate love.
You closed the bathroom door and told me that I shouldn’t have to see the evidence of the violence. You promised that you would take care of me, but first you wanted to clean the mess, all of my blood that painted the bedroom. I blinked up at you that I understood, but I was starting to feel the effects of my blood loss.
You promised me that you would be right back. I watched you exit the bathroom and close the door behind you. I closed my eyes and I don't remember opening them again. I lost feeling in my extremities, and I couldn't move. I remember feeling my limp body sliding down into the bathtub. My head slipped under and my blood pooled on the surface. I didn't have any fight left, and I began to succumb to the dark waters.
Before my last trace of light vanished, I felt you touch me. You grabbed my arms and pulled me up out of the water, allowing me to breathe just in time. I didn't have any strength to open my eyes, and I didn't want to look at you. I managed enough air to whisper the words, "I trust you." and then you stole my final breath.
You kissed me deeply, and I lost all of my bearings. I didn't know where I was or what was happening. I only remember tasting you on my lips and your loving arms that held me under. My ghost cried with you in the marble bathroom and my final words ringing, hanging in the air. I trust you.
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