The Other Night

We were celebrating making it through another week and what better way to do that then with a few drinks. I moved slowly through mine, I was happy that I got through work. You were working your way through the majority of a bottle of Jack Daniels. We did what we usually do, there was a movie playing on the screen and you were distracted. You got up frequently to dance and shake your rump in my face.I would laugh. You were cute and only sometime obnoxious. I was tired from the week of wear and tear on my body.

We were watching Wall-E. It is one of my favorite movies. It reminded me of my siblings. It was one of the last movies we watched together when we still were a close knit family.

You were getting upset by the movie. You kept shaking and fuming. Curse words spewed out of your mouth while describing how toxic you felt humanity was to the world. You were sitting beside me. My legs were resting over your lap and your hand rested on top of them. Your shaking increased violently, you started slamming your fist down. My legs just happened to be in the way. It wasn’t hard enough to leave bruises, but it still hurt. I stayed quiet to not draw your hostility toward me and it wasn’t that painful.

I made it through most of the movie. I couldn’t take the unintentional hits and the anger radiating off of you.

I am going to bed.

You erupt. You are angry that I don’t want to spend time with you. You are yelling and following me around the small apartment. I tell you to lower your voice. I can’t take it. I tell you that you have to leave. You threaten to break things and to take my car. These are never new threats and you are too intoxicated to drive.

Meet me out in the car.

You come out. You threaten to break the windows, slash the tires, and rip the doors off. I get you in the car.

It is about a forty minute drive going the speed limit. You are yelling and punching the dashboard. I ignore you. I am not engaging you in this. I want you away from me. You grab the steering wheel, since I am refusing to get into a screaming match with you. I see headlights in the lane beside me as you steer us into the adjacent lane. I’m terrified. The car slows down as I regain control of the wheel. I get us back into the left lane. I slow down so the other car can pass us with ease. I do not feel safe on the road.

We are about fifteen minutes away. You haven’t stopped yelling the entire time. You grab the gear shift and keep putting the car into neutral. I pull of to the side of the road.

If you won’t stop, you need to get out!

You laugh and question how I will force you out of the car. I say nothing. There is nothing I can do. I am helpless to your whims.

We finally reach your mother’s house. We are going down the steep gravel driveway. You throw the car into park. I hear the engine shudder and rev, I wonder if this could break the transmission. You say you will get out if I talk to you. I try to oblige you. You punch the vents so hard that the covers break off. I try to get out. You grab my shirt. I continue to try to get away. You promise that if I sit and talk that you will leave. We scream at each other. You slap me open palmed. My ears are ringing and I sit there stunned. No tears escape my eyes. It is all too much. I get up to leave. You grab me and slam me repeatedly into the steering wheel. You manage to slam me directly into the car horn. The car honks a couple times. My sobbing breath barely fills my lungs. I break away and get out of the car. I need to escape.

You are screaming how I am such a whore. Your voice echos off the mountains. It is close to midnight. I’m begging you to leave me. I start to run. I am a caged animal. I cannot get away from you. You are bigger, stronger, faster, and meaner. You catch up to me and grab my pants leg. You pull me back as hard as you can. You ripped my pants nearly clean off. I am luckily wearing shorts underneath, but I end up falling onto the gravel. You straddle my waist and pin my wrists down. You blame it on me, saying about how you don’t enjoy this and it has to be done. The spittle hits my face and I try to ignore both your words and excess bodily fluids. I am desperate. I try to get away again and you grab me by me wrists and fling me into a thorn bush. Nothing hurts anymore. I catch my balance before stumbling into the ravine. You are ready to launch another attack.

A single car comes up the road and we stop to watch. No one drives on this road unless they live here. We watch as the car turns around and pulls into your mother’s driveway. Out comes an officer. He asks if there was an accident and soon finds out that we are here on purpose. You say nothing is going on and he leads me back to my driver’s side to sit down. He asks me what happened. You raise your voice to insult and question the officer. He tells me to wait and puts you in handcuffs. He calls out for backup on his radio. He stays by you until backup comes. I listen to his radio and hear the voices read off your record. Finally the back up comes and he comes back to my side. He asks me again what happened.

Nothing really, just an argument.

I see the suspicion in his eyes. He then asks what happened to my pants. I hastily try to cover the damage. I am ashamed and scared. I am shaking and my eyes start to tear up. The battle is done and my defenses are weakened.

My pants got snagged on something. It was my clumsiness.

He asks if I was sure nothing had happened and I confirmed. I was covering for you. You had broken my skin on the gravel and sprained my thumb. I was making sure you didn’t get arrested. He proceeded to ask me if you had stashed drugs in my car and I denied that accusation.

The two officers then made you walk up the driveway to your mother’s house. They questioned whether I was okay to drive and I drove back to the apartment.

I shouldn’t have let you back into my life. You remembered watching Wall-E and the next thing you know you are getting handcuffed. You say you are sorry and that the only way you can really prove that you are sorry is to show me. I let you back in again and again.

I can’t heal from this.

I have been beaten down one too many times.

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