I sat on the love seat across from them. In my mind, I recall a rose and periwinkle floral pattern, but to be honest, I am not sure if it or the matching couch where they sat had flowers on them, was covered in that old fashioned plastic covering, or anything else about the room. I was bleeding, badly, and I hoped I didn’t bleed on this lady’s couch. I was trembling. Not because of the blood, the pain, but because the lady asked me a question in front of him.
“Tell me the truth, is he hurting you?”
My insides cramped, I felt the gush of blood and shut my eyes. When I opened them, I first looked down at my lap to see if the gush was as heavy as the last time.
The last time the blood soaked my jeans and left stains between my thighs. The last time was baby number two. That was the baby he aborted with branches in the woods. After I trudged through the woods to get myself home, I took a bath, wiped out the blood clots with my jeans, bagged them up and threw the mess in the dumpster.
This time, I was beaten. No one saw the bruises because they were below my neck.
I looked over at the guys on the couch. One had his fist balled up tightly on his lap, the other’s jaw was clenched so tight I thought his teeth would break.
He was in the kitchen by the back door. I do believe he nonchalantly made himself a plate of food before he let his wing span fill the doorway as he smiled mischievously at me. I knew what that meant, and he knew I knew what that meant. If the doorway was blocked, there was no way I could get away.
The gush was stronger this time. And although, the lady was nice, I could tell by the way she asked me the question that she meant business. The last thing I wanted to do was leave bloodstains on her couch. I felt everyone looking at me, soI shook my head no. The guys on the couch seemed to let out a disappointed sigh. The one unclenched his teeth to ask me,
“Are you sure?”
I looked dead in his eyes. I wanted to make sure he saw them darting back and forth as if they were saying no. But I wasn’t answering quick enough, so he answered for me.
“C’mon man, you know I ain’t doin nothing to that girl.”
I then looked at the guy with the balled fist.
Go ahead, get up and hit him. Hit him like he hits me. Over and over again. I begged in my head
“Will you answer them so we can take our plates and go,” he barked at me.
I should have broken the silence then. Instead…
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