It's smelled him before I saw him, the smell of stale rum and brandy assulted my nose. He crawled into bed next to me and started to shake me.

"Wake the f*** up! Wake up! Wake the f*** up!"

Tears welled into my house but I slowly turned to him and sat up.

He slapped me, the burning sensation overcame me, pulling my hand to my face I felt the hottness radiating to my hand. I breathed deeply and slowly looked up at him. He was laughing at me full blown laughter, as if slapping me was a joke he only knew the humor of. 

"Why you cryin'? I didnt even hit you that hard! You havent seen the worst I could do to you. You havent even felt it. Stop cryin' girl"

He grabbed the back of my head and yanked me to his chest. I could feel the damp sweat through his shirt. The stetch of him made me want to vomit. I found myself gagging.

"You know Johnny told me something interesting tonight. He said you've been talking to some boy named... Mark.. Matt.. Kenny.."

"Jason.." I choked out.

"Oh yes that's the boys' name, Jason. Now why would you think you could do that? You think you could go behind my back? You think you could cheat on me?" He yanked my head I cried out.

"You have no right to CHEAT ON ME." He yelled out as he snapped my head forward. He let go of my hair and got up out of bed and started pacing. I brought my knees to my chest and looked at my bruised feet trying to avoid eye contact with him.

"You're a piece of work arent you? I can't believe I married a piece of trash. You know you're so trashy? You know you're a piece of s*** don't you? You know how ugly you are? John.. Jared.. what ever the fuc.k his name is wouldnt give you the time of day. You're lucky I take care of you, provide for you. You know if I wasnt here you'd be begging for your next meal out on the street! You're dirty too! You disgust me. I'm going out youre boring." He staggeres to the living room, I dont move from my position until I hear the car leave the driveway. I get up and run to the bathroom and inspect my injuries. A bright red palm print sits on my fast, my mouth tastes of blood. I spit out red out, and turn to see my neck. The red is clear as day but don't think it'll bruise. I put my hair into a braid and put a cold rag on my face. I slump to the bathroom floor and just breathe, thinking to myself. How long can I take this? I could handle it before but now I think i'm one hit away from dying. I can't leave though, he's getting better and I love him. I can't leave some one I love he'd be a wreck without me. He's right I am a piece of s***. I'll talk to him in the morning I say to myself and drift off to sleep on the cold floor.