Never Again
Slipped and Fell
I screamed for Chad, and what happens? I get Chad. Why did I have to scream for him, his angel like self? His eyes filled with caring make me want to tell him the truth, to say everything: how I’m terrified when I hear Alex’s footsteps, how I hate Alex’s touch every other night when I am summoned to the bedroom, like some dog; a bitch. But I can’t because I couldn’t leave Alex. It’s all I know, my childhood friend, teenage-sweethearts, now his girlfriend.
Why should I leave anyway, it’s my job as a woman to give the man what he want, food, drink, sex ; the lot of it. Although…
The nurse that treated the gash on my head was telling me how no woman should have to put up with abusive partners. Could she not get it in her head that I slipped and fell?
But maybe I should just leave Alex, I could move in with a friend. That would not work for so many different reasons. Alex made sure I had no contact with my friends and now they think I have ditched them. I can’t just stand up and walk out of the apartment, because Alex calls at random times to check if I haven’t left. Or, if he is suspicious, he will come home to check. So no I can’t leave. Or tell Chad.
“Rosie, what happened? Tell me the truth please. I can help you,” the nurse asked so patronisingly. I told her a million times I slipped and fell, but she won’t believe me. Why should she, I can’t lie. I am useless, completely useless.
“I fell over, and hit my head, OK!” I practically shouted. A mixture of anger and pain as the large cut on my head started to sting and throb. We then entered an uncomfortable silence.
How ever long later, I was allowed to go home, not that I wanted to.
Earlier this night I had tried to run and go to Chad’s apartment, but ran in to door. That hurt but no where near the pain of being hit around the head with a glass beer bottle, hence the horrible cut on my head, to accompany the other smaller healing scratches.
We walked out into the waiting room, where Alex sat there watching me. Trying to see if I had told the nurse the truth, or if I had been a ‘Good Girl’ and said I fell. I then walked, putting my weight on the leg that wasn’t bandaged up. The nurse believed me when I said I stood on glass, but didn’t believe when I said that was the reason I slipped and fell.
The nurse told me to replace the dressing on my head every 12 hours and clean it, Alex was listening in. I knew he would be thinking of ways to make me suffer; lemon, salt they all hurt a cut, right?
Yet the look on this face was that of a caring boyfriend, his arm around my waist, stopping me from toppling over. I was pretty sure that soon as we were away from here I would be left to fend for myself.
I did not want to go home; I wanted to be somewhere nice. Somewhere without Alex; somewhere with Chad.
Just tell the nurse, you slipped and fell
It starts to sting as it starts to swell
She looks at you, she wants the truth
It's right out there in the waiting room
With those hands
Lookin’ just as sweet as he can
Never Again
Why should I leave anyway, it’s my job as a woman to give the man what he want, food, drink, sex ; the lot of it. Although…
The nurse that treated the gash on my head was telling me how no woman should have to put up with abusive partners. Could she not get it in her head that I slipped and fell?
But maybe I should just leave Alex, I could move in with a friend. That would not work for so many different reasons. Alex made sure I had no contact with my friends and now they think I have ditched them. I can’t just stand up and walk out of the apartment, because Alex calls at random times to check if I haven’t left. Or, if he is suspicious, he will come home to check. So no I can’t leave. Or tell Chad.
“Rosie, what happened? Tell me the truth please. I can help you,” the nurse asked so patronisingly. I told her a million times I slipped and fell, but she won’t believe me. Why should she, I can’t lie. I am useless, completely useless.
“I fell over, and hit my head, OK!” I practically shouted. A mixture of anger and pain as the large cut on my head started to sting and throb. We then entered an uncomfortable silence.
How ever long later, I was allowed to go home, not that I wanted to.
Earlier this night I had tried to run and go to Chad’s apartment, but ran in to door. That hurt but no where near the pain of being hit around the head with a glass beer bottle, hence the horrible cut on my head, to accompany the other smaller healing scratches.
We walked out into the waiting room, where Alex sat there watching me. Trying to see if I had told the nurse the truth, or if I had been a ‘Good Girl’ and said I fell. I then walked, putting my weight on the leg that wasn’t bandaged up. The nurse believed me when I said I stood on glass, but didn’t believe when I said that was the reason I slipped and fell.
The nurse told me to replace the dressing on my head every 12 hours and clean it, Alex was listening in. I knew he would be thinking of ways to make me suffer; lemon, salt they all hurt a cut, right?
Yet the look on this face was that of a caring boyfriend, his arm around my waist, stopping me from toppling over. I was pretty sure that soon as we were away from here I would be left to fend for myself.
I did not want to go home; I wanted to be somewhere nice. Somewhere without Alex; somewhere with Chad.
Just tell the nurse, you slipped and fell
It starts to sting as it starts to swell
She looks at you, she wants the truth
It's right out there in the waiting room
With those hands
Lookin’ just as sweet as he can
Never Again