Because You Said Forever
Part 17
The next day, I'm pretty paranoid for the whole morning; worrying about Joe realizing I sabotaged his straightener. After a while, though, It fades out of my mind until I start to hear Joe puttering around the house. I hold my breath whenever he goes into the bathroom. For a couple minutes I just hear his footsteps going back and forth, and I hear doors close and open at random intervals.
"Nick..." I finally hear a low voice say at one point, when Joe is in the bathroom. My breathing hitches as I shuffle to the bathroom, trying not to look nervous or suspicious.
"Yeah?" I ask, but my voice quivers and I immediately notice it myself.
He gazes at me coldly. "Why doesn't my straightener work, Nick?" he asks bitingly. I start to shrug, but he narrows his eyes and growls "When I left it last night, the cord was wrapped around it. And just now, the cord wasn't And the straightener is broken," he states firmly, emphasizing the appropriate words.
I start to say "I didn't touch it," but he cuts me off before I get one word out.
"You don't know anything about that," he smiles sarcastically "do you?" He leans close to me and his voice slips into a growl. "Nick, did you break my straightener?"
Feeling tiny, I only manage to squeak "N-Not on purpose."
"I don't think it was an accident, Nick," he snarls in a voice that scares me, while he grabs a chunk of my hair and yanks it roughly, holding the useless aforementioned straightener in the other hand. "Don't lie to me."
"Oww!" I shriek as he practically lifts me up by my hair. "I'm sorry!"
"You'd better be. What the hell were you thinking?" he asks his voice low but not harsh, pulling my hair upwards, and I have to stand on my toes. It hurts!
"Aaoowww!! Joe, stop!" I whine again as it feels like he repeats the action and it feels like he's going to rip the clump of curls right off of my head. "Jo—oe!" I choke on my words. "Please! That hurts!"
He doesn't let go or stop pulling. "You broke my hair straightener. Yes or no," he says it as a statement and not a question as he grabs an additional clump of curls, pulling more forcefully and I'm crying by now.
"Y-y-y-eess!" I yell. I desperately attempt to stand closer to Joe, on my tip toes to lessen the tugging, but it only makes me wobble. My voice is suddenly involuntarily at the level of shouting. I try to wrench away from the pulling pain, but Joe only pulls harder, making me cry loudly.
"Purposefully?" he demands, glaring right into my eyes. I don't answer him, and he repeats the question, with a tug for emphasis.
"Oooowwwwwww! Ye-e-es! I did!" I yell with a sob, finding it won't do me any good to deny it. My skull’s hurting intolerably from his yelling in my ear and trying to rip my hair out. I close my eyes and feel Joe grabbing my arm, and I feel his nails dig into the skin.
"And why, may I ask, did you do that?" he seethes while he twists my arm into my back, forcing me to turn slightly, and my whole arm’s burning and being stretched. God, he's strong! My crying seems to empower him rather than soften him up.
"Ooowohowhowhwoww!" I scream, followed by sobs.
He waits for me to calm down before he asks again "Why did you break my straightener, Nick?" he gives me a glare that instills fear in every part of me. I think he's going to kill me. He doesn’t release my arm from the painful position. I look into his eyes and try to give him the most pleading, sorry look I can manage.
"I d-didn't want you to go out!" I manage to choke through my crying, and I'm replied by another purposeful jerk on my hair. "Joe, please, let me go!"
Amazingly, he does. He lifts me up slightly by my hair and then lets go of my hair and arm at once with a shove, and I stumble backwards and back into the wall, almost falling onto the floor. He stalks out of the bathroom, leaving me crying leaning against the wall.
"Nick..." I finally hear a low voice say at one point, when Joe is in the bathroom. My breathing hitches as I shuffle to the bathroom, trying not to look nervous or suspicious.
"Yeah?" I ask, but my voice quivers and I immediately notice it myself.
He gazes at me coldly. "Why doesn't my straightener work, Nick?" he asks bitingly. I start to shrug, but he narrows his eyes and growls "When I left it last night, the cord was wrapped around it. And just now, the cord wasn't And the straightener is broken," he states firmly, emphasizing the appropriate words.
I start to say "I didn't touch it," but he cuts me off before I get one word out.
"You don't know anything about that," he smiles sarcastically "do you?" He leans close to me and his voice slips into a growl. "Nick, did you break my straightener?"
Feeling tiny, I only manage to squeak "N-Not on purpose."
"I don't think it was an accident, Nick," he snarls in a voice that scares me, while he grabs a chunk of my hair and yanks it roughly, holding the useless aforementioned straightener in the other hand. "Don't lie to me."
"Oww!" I shriek as he practically lifts me up by my hair. "I'm sorry!"
"You'd better be. What the hell were you thinking?" he asks his voice low but not harsh, pulling my hair upwards, and I have to stand on my toes. It hurts!
"Aaoowww!! Joe, stop!" I whine again as it feels like he repeats the action and it feels like he's going to rip the clump of curls right off of my head. "Jo—oe!" I choke on my words. "Please! That hurts!"
He doesn't let go or stop pulling. "You broke my hair straightener. Yes or no," he says it as a statement and not a question as he grabs an additional clump of curls, pulling more forcefully and I'm crying by now.
"Y-y-y-eess!" I yell. I desperately attempt to stand closer to Joe, on my tip toes to lessen the tugging, but it only makes me wobble. My voice is suddenly involuntarily at the level of shouting. I try to wrench away from the pulling pain, but Joe only pulls harder, making me cry loudly.
"Purposefully?" he demands, glaring right into my eyes. I don't answer him, and he repeats the question, with a tug for emphasis.
"Oooowwwwwww! Ye-e-es! I did!" I yell with a sob, finding it won't do me any good to deny it. My skull’s hurting intolerably from his yelling in my ear and trying to rip my hair out. I close my eyes and feel Joe grabbing my arm, and I feel his nails dig into the skin.
"And why, may I ask, did you do that?" he seethes while he twists my arm into my back, forcing me to turn slightly, and my whole arm’s burning and being stretched. God, he's strong! My crying seems to empower him rather than soften him up.
"Ooowohowhowhwoww!" I scream, followed by sobs.
He waits for me to calm down before he asks again "Why did you break my straightener, Nick?" he gives me a glare that instills fear in every part of me. I think he's going to kill me. He doesn’t release my arm from the painful position. I look into his eyes and try to give him the most pleading, sorry look I can manage.
"I d-didn't want you to go out!" I manage to choke through my crying, and I'm replied by another purposeful jerk on my hair. "Joe, please, let me go!"
Amazingly, he does. He lifts me up slightly by my hair and then lets go of my hair and arm at once with a shove, and I stumble backwards and back into the wall, almost falling onto the floor. He stalks out of the bathroom, leaving me crying leaning against the wall.