The Out law club - Harriet 2

*The Out Law Club*
Harriet 2 1

He swung through the door, battering the fly screen with his fist. His drunken body staggering towards me.2

He had been out again. At that lonely pub, with his mates. All of them, down right pricks. All of them, just drinking their lives away. Drinking what-ever sorrows they had, while they watched woman, stripping their souls, like every article of clothing they once used to have on their bodies. It sickened me that he had succumbed to this.3

There was a time. A time when we were in love, when I felt passion, I felt excitement in our lives, and while we had our problems, like everyone else in this world, we seemed to make it through perfectly fine in the end. 4

Though that all change. I was loosing him one day at a time. Slowly he was slipping away, and no matter what I did to try and prevent it, he would never try, he would never change. I began to see the real him. The darkened soul.5

It was one day, a few months back now. He had come back in the same state. He never spoke just stumbled in, flopping his body on the couch to fall asleep, either that of throwing his guts up all over the furniture. I tried to help him, clean him up, make him something to drink and eat, but he did not want it this time. 6

He wanted something that I did not feel like giving him, due to his current state of mind, and body. Something he was asking me to so, needed to be done when he was able to fully appreciate me, when he was able to feel our bodies colliding in the act of love. I would not do such a thing when he was limp, and useless.7

I had tried to reason with him, giving him my explanation for why I would not let him have me tonight, but it would just not register through his scattered mind. He was way out of it, he had his idea, and his head, he would not be giving up until he had it.8

He held me against the wall, stripping me, tearing my clothes of like a vicious beast. Helpless I tried to fight him of. I had tried to scream, but he had held his heavy hand tightly against my mouth, sinking his teeth painfully into my deepness. His tongue lapping at my energy. As he forced himself upon me, the tears did fall, I tried to kick, I tried to bite, I scratched him arms, begging him to stop, begging him to let me go, pleading that we had time, time to do this right.9

Though this went deeper than sex. This ran deep within his blood. He had anger built up from long before I had arrived on the scene. He was just waiting for the perfect time, the perfect candidate to release it on. Just like many men, he would instill inside me, his bitterness. Leaking through his body into mine. No longer just bitter, but a machine. A violent abusive machine.10

I thought that we might be able to even forget it afterwards. Move on, just pretend like it had never happened. Though his attacks became more frequent. It began to be more than just rape. It began to get violent. Knives held to my throat, beaten, battered and bruised, being thrown around like a rag doll, being condemned to the prison life inside my own home, to scared to go outside just in case someone saw me, and I lost it all.11

Then one day, I just could not take it anymore. I just wanted to be free from it all. I never meant to do what I did. I loved him with all my heart, but I needed him gone.