by Alexander Wolf Hosking

Created on: July 20, 2009

Annabelle Crutchcrotch

For years I had been getting beatings. When we married everything was picture perfect, but as I quiver in the corner of the bedroom, our wedding day seems a million miles away. I think back to when it was good. How we loved life, before the drink.
The demons fluid, it was responsible for changing my lover. Once a soft and gentle individual, now transformed to a beast, a monster, an ogre. No trace of conscience, all empathy, sympathy and compassion drained from their body, replaced by alcohol.

How could this happen? I ponder quaking, arms protecting my face. A flurry of blows rain down upon my head and back, a boot thrusting forward knocks me and I roll, my head begins to gyrate and swirl.
"Please stop, I haven't done anything. I love y.." my screams cut short as a strike connects with my lower lip, showering the wall beside me with drops of blood and spittle.
Claret runs down my chin, lip swelling immediately. Fearfully I glance up, the sight before me chills my spine. Never before had a look petrified my soul as deeply and profoundly as the stare on my love's face right now. Eye's that once projected devotion and sincerity, now emitted pure detestation, a hatred that seemed to jump out, striking the very essence of me. Teeth glare and shine, spittle glistens on lips, veins bulge and pulse.
Another strike pounds my jaw. This time there is no pain, just a bone crunching sound resonating through my skull. Trying to grip my teeth together I realise my jaw has broken.
Just as I attempt to speak, to warn of my anguish, yet another blow is delivered. Here is the pain. Shooting round my face in an instant.
With my head now buried into carpet, I begin to blank out. Fear envelops my whole being, if I pass out now I may never wake.
With a surge of adrenalin I push against the flooring. A rush of air leaves my lungs, passes my vocal cords and escapes from my twisted mouth as a roar. This beastly bellow stuns my master briefly.
My limbs feel weak, I pray these legs of mine will hold as I stumble forward, grasping at blue walls, leaving them crimson.
My wild scream may have stunned, but now I hear movement behind me. A fresh blast of adrenalin is delivered and this time it goes directly to my legs. I flee. Out the door. Along the corridor. The top of the stairs.
One foot is off the ground , ready for the decent when I feel their grasp upon my shirt. Instinctively I pull and twist, my footing shifts and I tumble. Arms flail wildly, looking for a stable hold. All they find is an arm, and I fall.
At the foot of the stairs all seems calm. My wrist hurts, I'm wet and sticky but I stand. Looking down I see the disfigured body of my love. She is dead. Neck broken. This is not the escape I intended.

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