God Knows You're Built for Sin

It was all teeth and tongue as his lips traveled from my lips to my neck. I placed my hands on his chest, trying to push him away.

“Baby, s-slow down..” I whispered, trying to catch him as his hands slid down my body. They dipped below the hem of my dress, pushing it up past my thighs.

“C’mon…Lets just have a little bit of fun.”

“No.. stop!”
Crying out didn’t help; he grabbed my arms, turning me around to face the other way. His grip was firm on my hip as his opposite hand tangled in my hair, bending me at my waist.

“You’re gonna wish you’d never denied me bitch.”

Pain was all I felt once he was finally spent. All I could do was cry into my pillow, trying to shake all the wicked touches and feelings away. When I could hear his footsteps coming back down the hall I pretended I was asleep, hoping he wouldn’t stop and try to create a rise again.

Barely over the legal age to buy cigarettes and porn, and I was afraid of dying of physical harm.

“You know I’m sorry,” I heard him say as the bed on his side dipped, “I hate hurting you.”

I choked out a sob, knowing no matter how much he hurt me, he always tried to make me feel like I was the only one for him. That I was perfect, with all my flaws and faults. But that he was there to put me in line, my own personal supervisor.

~*~

It had been three days, and my cheek still hurt from the striking blow he had delivered. It’s not like I could do anything about it: no one would listen to me, and he was stronger than me by too much.

Maybe that’s why I was considered a nobody: thrown into the masses of society, thrown away like trash.

Before I could finish the dishes in the sink, I heard him stomping down the hall. I figured I better finish up quickly otherwise there would be hell to pay.

“Well, I just lost my fucking job..”

I tried to slouch away, hoping he wouldn’t come towards me with a heavy fist.

When I glanced up at him his eyes were fixated on me, his nose caked in white.

“No wonder why you were fired,” I breathed, hoping it wasn’t as audible as I had made it sound. His eyes flared with anger, his fist clenching at his side.

“I was j-just saying because you know cocaine-“

His hands were around my throat faster than I could count to three, squeezing tighter. I slammed my hands on his broad shoulders, hoping he would stop.

“You better realize who the fuck you’re talking to. I am your maker bitch.”

“P-please.. “ I groaned, begging for my release.

When I closed my eyes again, I imagined life without such a hindrance. And when I opened them, Nick was staring back at me, with the big brown eyes I had once fallen in love with.

He dropped his hand, his eyes started to water, brushing my hair away from my face. He fell to his knees, clutching the bottom of my shirt.

“I’m so sorry.. you’ve gotta forgive me. Please forgive me. I love you Jess.”

But how much could I believe him this time? When was my faith ever gonna be lost in the train-wreck that was my forever boyfriend?

~*~

I tried to put my past beside me, and I tried to ignore the fact that he was an abuser, and if he didn’t get help I would be worse off than dead. I breathed in deeply, enjoying the silence before he came home from the deal.

Everything was peaceful until I went to stand up and he came through the door, huffing and puffing.

“Did you fucking call the cops on me!?”

I shook my head, backing away slowly as he kept stepping towards me.

“You fucking called the cops didn’t you? You stupid, good-for-nothing bitch!” His swing was level, and I was on the ground as he pulled the knife from his jacket.

“I’m sick and tired of you always fucking everything up! Stand up, you filthy slut.”

When I didn’t comply, his hands were dragging me to my feet, the blade against my throat.

“I don’t care what happens, but you’re not gonna double cross me again.”

Facial expressions aside, I looked down at how pale white my skin had become. His thumb was on my lip, his other skilled hand wrapped around the hilt of the weapon.

“Honey, you’ll be good for something some day. You taste like heaven, but god knows.. you’re just like me. Built for sin. Ain’t no God for a filthy harlot.”

Blinding light. Nothing but a bright aura surrounding me, and when I breathed in.. the air was fresh. I proved them all wrong. I proved everyone wrong. When I glimpsed down, I was standing in a starched white dress. I had been made for greatness, for more than just baggage and trash to be thrown around. That I was made for something other than a life of failure. I wasn’t built for sin.