Credit: Complete the Story by Piccadilly
I knew I would regret the question the moment the words were out of my mouth, but I couldn't take it back now. Why did I have to ask if he would let me go? I knew he wouldn't. And I knew it would only piss him off more. I knew what I was getting myself into and I did it anyway.
Maybe I wanted this. Maybe I wanted to die, but not this way. Not so slowly or painfully. Not so alone or scared. Not while I feel so alone and afraid.
I didn't even know where I was anymore. He had moved me so many times that I would never be able to find my way out even if I could find a way to escape.
But, I really didn't want to, honestly. I just wanted it to end. I didn't want to go home like I did in the beginning.
So, when he started, I didn't fight.
First, my teeth and nails. Then, the cuts and light jabs. The shocks came next.
I went numb.
I never screamed.
I just passed on and I wasn't even mad about it.
It was finally over, the physical and the mental.
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