02/25/2016 (Thursday) @ 4:34 PM
The door opens.
I already know what is to come.
My mind has already been prepared.
My body has already been prepared.
Heart rate finally relaxed.
No other choice, don't want to have a panic attack.
What the hell,
I don't want to talk.
Stop the bullshit.
Take what you want and get the fuck out of my face.
I can only get my mind to pretend for so long.
Why am I not answering you?
Because you are a demon, you are evil.
You disgust me.
You make my body crawl.
I feel like I have bugs crawling all over me just at the sight of you.
No alcohol tonight.
What don't you get or understand that I don't like to drink and then have to drive home?
That shit you put into it knocks me out and I remember nothing.
Quickly I am numb to my feelings.
Nothing matters at this moment.
My mind is empty and my heart is heavy as if there are a ton of bricks laying on my chest.
My legs open as if on auto play.
My head turns and I look to the wall, my mid blank because I feel like nothing because I feel like I am nothing.
As he pulls my arms up above my head I feel the coldness of something hard placed in my hand as he closes his grip.
It's his gun.
His reminder to me of who is in control.
I close my eyes.
They are heavy.
I try to think of a place far away that is beautiful and safe.
The thrust are too much to bare and I lose focus.
The whispers in my ear, constant with forced responses keep me in the present.
As I respond I want to crawl out of my skin, rip away at my skin.
When it is all over, I get dressed.
He kisses me and reminds me I am his girlfriend and such a good submissive whore...and until next time.
As bedtimes comes, I pretend all is well to the family.
Flashbacks constant.
Tears held back.
I can't wait to curl up on the couch under the covers.
I pour the alcohol.
I can finally escape and numb out somewhere safe.
Alcohol, my medication, but my demon.
Alcohol, you will be my death, you are part of my suicide plan.
Alcohol, my demise.
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