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| - She was so perfect, with long blonde hair, stunning blue eyes and perfect skin. She was the essence of beauty, and I was nothing special with messy brown hair and dull gray eyes. She always wore beautiful dresses, and I always wore hoodies and jeans. At the time I didn't understand why she, a queen in com parison, chose me, but I know now; I am weak. I cannot fight back. In the first months, everything was fine, life was good and I finally felt as if I had found the perfect woman for me. Then we made the decision to move in together.
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| abstract
| - She was so perfect, with long blonde hair, stunning blue eyes and perfect skin. She was the essence of beauty, and I was nothing special with messy brown hair and dull gray eyes. She always wore beautiful dresses, and I always wore hoodies and jeans. At the time I didn't understand why she, a queen in com parison, chose me, but I know now; I am weak. I cannot fight back. In the first months, everything was fine, life was good and I finally felt as if I had found the perfect woman for me. Then we made the decision to move in together. That's where things went south. She became overly attached and constantly needed to know what I was doing and where I was at all times of the day. One day I had enough and said I was leaving. When my back was turned she hit me in the head with a vase and knocked me out. From then on she kept me trapped inside the home, giving me food, and beating me when I talked or tried to fight back. I was hers now, her plaything, one that she never grew bored with. On one occasion I tried escaping, which proved futile. She chained me to my bed for weeks. On one occasion she brought in a TV and a DVD player. She put on an array of movies, mainly love stories, and snuggled up to me. I would have killed her then and there if I could move my arms. She would come home drunk at times, and beat me for the fun of it. I tried fighting and she always won. I was weak and scrawny, a body that couldn't do any harm since I was little. She wouldn't let me look out the windows, in fear of seeing other women, or anyone seeing me. I don't know why she was so worried about me seeing other women, what would I do? I had enough, I wanted out, one night, I crept into the kitchen and took a long knife out of the drawers. As quietly as I could I snuck up the stares and to the door to her room. She was asleep, I could she her sides rising and falling. She had her back to me. I creeped over to her, and lifted the blade up. Steeling my nerves I plunged it into her neck, the blade going straight through. I pulled it out. There was no blood. Not on the knife, not on the pillow, not on her. The cut healed and closed up. She turned her body and looked at me. Her blue eyes were black. Frightened I dropped the knife, backing away. Quick as lighting she grabbed it and swung it across my chest, making a deep cut. I fell backwards and looked up as she licked the blood of the knife, seemingly pleased with her skills. She walked over to me but before she could attack I tripped her. I flipped onto my stomach and started crawling. I felt her hand on my leg and tried to shake her off. I felt her other hand grab my free leg and begin to drag me back. I fought, I clawed at the ground trying to pull myself away. I could feel her weight on my back, forcing me down. Pain ripped through my body as I felt the cold blade go through my shoulder. I blacked out. When I woke up I was naked and chained to the wall in the basement. I stayed that way for god knows how long. She would repeatedly come down and force feed me food, and special pills to make me sleep. After a few months she left the house, leaving me there without food or water for 5 days. Then one day I hear the door open and close, and a whiny wail echoed throughout the house. It sounded like a baby... "Wanna go see daddy?" her voice lulled. My heart started pounding, I hoped she wouldn't come down into the basement, that there was someone else. I heard the basement door open. Please god no. She started walking downstairs. She stood before me. In her arms was a little bundle; a newborn baby. "He's your child, isn't he beautiful?" She asked me. All I could do was nod my head. I was starving and thirsty, I had no energy to do anything or say anything. After a while she went upstairs, then came back down, without the baby. She walked over to me and kissed me. Then backed away and pulled out a gun. I smiled as she trained it on me. The last thing I heard was a loud bang, and finally everything was over.
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