..::|| P S Y C H E ||::..
The mirror in the bathroom was cracked. The gash on her temple could attest to how her head had been propelled into it at some speed.
Dark eyes were shot through with broken blood vessels, and they could only partially focus on the reflection. Today…today was bad. She’d upset him too much…she should have known better than to be late coming home from work. He had been waiting at his accustomed spot at the table, the space before him stark and empty of the dinner that should have been warm and prepared in time for his arrival.
There were just some days that she couldn’t get out of her own way. He couldn’t be faulted for disciplining her when she’d clearly made the mistake.
She flinched at the sound of his voice, soft and warm, threading through the air. Calling her to bed.
Gods, did she know better than to keep him waiting.
Hastily, she wiped the blood away from her skin, keeping a firm grip on the edge of the sink as dizziness threatened to send her toppling over. Maybe she’d hit the mirror harder than she thought. As if in response, the crack spidered out in several more directions. She clapped a hand over her mouth as it repeated the process again and again until it finally shattered apart.
“No….nononono….” fingers hastily tried to gather the pieces together, heedless of the cuts and scrapes they inflicted. So preoccupied with picking up the little pieces was she, that his footsteps eluded her, and she had no idea he was looming over her until his fist tightened painfully in her hair.
He was quiet…too quiet, and she felt the fear wreathing its way around her heart and holding it in a vice grip. It was always worse when he was quiet. He shook her until the glass shards fell to the floor from her hands, and then dragged her into the bedroom. She collapsed into a heap as he threw her onto the bed, struggling to catch her breath. Looking up at him, she shifted and backed up, backpedaling until she hit the headboard and could go no further.
“You broke my mirror, Devorah. Have I not always asked you to respect my things?” Rhys’ voice was deadly quiet, his motions slow and deliberate as he unfastened his belt.
“You-you have. I’m…I’m sorry, Rhys…it was an accident. I can have it replaced…I get paid tomorrow at the casino….” her voice emerged sounding frail and fearful.
“Oh, now you know that’s not good enough. If you hadn’t forced me to discipline you, this wouldn’t have happened, now would it.”
“N-no.”
“That’s right…” he reached for her ankle and slowly dragged her back down the bed, a decidedly sick gleam in his gaze. “…and we’re going to start with a new lesson this evening…”
His belt wrapped around her neck faster than she could scramble out of the way, giving him a way to control her tiny form with a single hand. Tears streaked down her cheeks, panic and bile rising in her throat as fear forced her to struggle and claw at the belt and even his hand until he pulled it tighter and she mercifully blacked out.
------------------------------------------------
When she woke, she had no idea what time it was. Rhys was passed out beside her, snoring loud enough to wake the dead. Her petite form slid out from beneath his arm, fingers removing the tatters of her clothing that remained. She slid into the bathroom, using the rags to pick up the glass and throw it away.
She was glad she couldn’t see her reflection just then. She hurt in places she didn’t want to think about, and had trouble breathing. The welt around her neck was so prominent she was going to have to choose her work outfit carefully.
There was one small mercy…the shower had hot water. She stood there under the scalding hot stream until her shivering stopped, and then she scrubbed and scrubbed until the water began to cool. No amount of hot water was going to help her feel clean. But it would have to be clean enough.
Once she’d dressed in a pair of soft leggings and a soft, fitted sweater, she pulled her boots on and slipped out of the apartment. Careful, quiet steps took her up to the building’s roof. While there was no sky this far down on the surface of Coruscant, she still curled up against a heating grate and pulled her knees into her chest.
Rocking back and forth, she closed her eyes and tried to remember what it was like to breathe without being in so much pain.
@[member="Darth Metus"]
Dark eyes were shot through with broken blood vessels, and they could only partially focus on the reflection. Today…today was bad. She’d upset him too much…she should have known better than to be late coming home from work. He had been waiting at his accustomed spot at the table, the space before him stark and empty of the dinner that should have been warm and prepared in time for his arrival.
There were just some days that she couldn’t get out of her own way. He couldn’t be faulted for disciplining her when she’d clearly made the mistake.
She flinched at the sound of his voice, soft and warm, threading through the air. Calling her to bed.
Gods, did she know better than to keep him waiting.
Hastily, she wiped the blood away from her skin, keeping a firm grip on the edge of the sink as dizziness threatened to send her toppling over. Maybe she’d hit the mirror harder than she thought. As if in response, the crack spidered out in several more directions. She clapped a hand over her mouth as it repeated the process again and again until it finally shattered apart.
“No….nononono….” fingers hastily tried to gather the pieces together, heedless of the cuts and scrapes they inflicted. So preoccupied with picking up the little pieces was she, that his footsteps eluded her, and she had no idea he was looming over her until his fist tightened painfully in her hair.
He was quiet…too quiet, and she felt the fear wreathing its way around her heart and holding it in a vice grip. It was always worse when he was quiet. He shook her until the glass shards fell to the floor from her hands, and then dragged her into the bedroom. She collapsed into a heap as he threw her onto the bed, struggling to catch her breath. Looking up at him, she shifted and backed up, backpedaling until she hit the headboard and could go no further.
“You broke my mirror, Devorah. Have I not always asked you to respect my things?” Rhys’ voice was deadly quiet, his motions slow and deliberate as he unfastened his belt.
“You-you have. I’m…I’m sorry, Rhys…it was an accident. I can have it replaced…I get paid tomorrow at the casino….” her voice emerged sounding frail and fearful.
“Oh, now you know that’s not good enough. If you hadn’t forced me to discipline you, this wouldn’t have happened, now would it.”
“N-no.”
“That’s right…” he reached for her ankle and slowly dragged her back down the bed, a decidedly sick gleam in his gaze. “…and we’re going to start with a new lesson this evening…”
His belt wrapped around her neck faster than she could scramble out of the way, giving him a way to control her tiny form with a single hand. Tears streaked down her cheeks, panic and bile rising in her throat as fear forced her to struggle and claw at the belt and even his hand until he pulled it tighter and she mercifully blacked out.
------------------------------------------------
When she woke, she had no idea what time it was. Rhys was passed out beside her, snoring loud enough to wake the dead. Her petite form slid out from beneath his arm, fingers removing the tatters of her clothing that remained. She slid into the bathroom, using the rags to pick up the glass and throw it away.
She was glad she couldn’t see her reflection just then. She hurt in places she didn’t want to think about, and had trouble breathing. The welt around her neck was so prominent she was going to have to choose her work outfit carefully.
There was one small mercy…the shower had hot water. She stood there under the scalding hot stream until her shivering stopped, and then she scrubbed and scrubbed until the water began to cool. No amount of hot water was going to help her feel clean. But it would have to be clean enough.
Once she’d dressed in a pair of soft leggings and a soft, fitted sweater, she pulled her boots on and slipped out of the apartment. Careful, quiet steps took her up to the building’s roof. While there was no sky this far down on the surface of Coruscant, she still curled up against a heating grate and pulled her knees into her chest.
Rocking back and forth, she closed her eyes and tried to remember what it was like to breathe without being in so much pain.
@[member="Darth Metus"]