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It hurts. So much pain coming from the one that you love and you don't know how to deal with it.You want to leave, just run away and hide, but where would you go? What would you do? It's like walking on eggshells waiting for the explosion to come. Something simple, something unnecessary, something that really isn't important.
You feel the slap and your head reels from the blow. The traces of blood intermingle with tears but you dare not wipe them away.These are the longest hours of your life, yet its only minutes.

A slap, a fist, a punch, a kick, and you go down. Why should I have to get up? Just let me lay here and die, yet you cannot. He won't let you. He grabs your hair till he has a handhold strong enough to pull you up and his fingers entwine, twisting and turning till you feel your scalp pop.
Over and over you feel the blows to your body though most rain upon your head. And the question is why? Why does he do this? What have you done so wrong that you deserve this kind of abuse?
You have no time to answer your own questions, though they still run through your mind. Soon you begin to wonder if it really is your fault as he says. After all aren't you the one that burned the bacon at breakfast this morning, and the eggs were a little too runny. But still is that a reason? Should he really blame you for the washing machine breaking down? It was used when you got it ten years before. But who else could he blame?
He has the power, he has the strength, and with each passing day he saps your will more and more.And you're thinking am I going to die? Oh God it hurts so much. How long before this nightmare ends? Will it ever? And then it does; till the next time?

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