Maybe It's Real

I don't know if you think it's funny. That seeing me in pain makes your life easier, but you're my hell. My own Devil, sitting at my feet. Every time I'm with you, I'm scared for my life. I'm scared that you will maybe go to far and hurt me so bad...no one can fix me. What did I ever do?

~

I hear the knock on the front door. You're here on a Sunday. My mom answers.

"James! What a pleasure to see you! I'll fetch Stella." She exclaims happily. I put my hair into a ponytail, glaring at the dark circles under my eyes. Mom appears at my door.

"Dear, James is here." She tells me. I nod and follow her down the stairs.

I see James pick up Melody and I hold back the urge to yell at him to put her down. James gives me a smile I used to love. Now I hate it with every single bone in my body.

"Hello, Stella. Ready to go?" He asks in a happy voice. It's all an act. All of it. I give him a smile that hurts.

"Yeah, let's go." I say in a quiet voice. James puts Melody down and I feel my body sigh in relief.

"Bye, honey." My mother says, giving me a worried smile.

"Bye, mom." I answer, giving her one back.

James and I walk out of my house and into the blistering cold. James grabs my arm forcefully and I cringe.

Oh God, here we go.

He drags me across his yard and into his house. It's hot in his house. His heater is always on. Always.

He practically runs up the stairs, pulling me behind him. I stumble a few times in the hurried rush. Then we finally get to the top of the stairs.

Where his bedroom is.

Where his bed is.

I'm pushed upon it, where my clothes are ripped off. I stay frozen, as always. And then he starts. Tears siliently fall from my eyes and I look up at the ceiling. James' lips cover my body. I don't move.

"Do something!" He urges in a hard voice. I cringe and tug his hair, running my hand through it. He moans and tears fall faster.

James goes faster, too. My whole body screams in pure agony. It hurts so bad. I moan in pain, which is mistaken by pleasure because he keeps going. If his lips weren't covering mine at the moment, I would be screaming my lungs out.

Out of pure agony.

And then he stops.

He's done. He gets dressed and glares at me, throwing my clothes at my helpless body.

"Make me something to eat." He spits, walking out of the room.

I lay paralyzed for countless minutes, waiting for the pain to subside. It doesn't.

"Stella! Make me fucking food!" He screams. I cringe, a sob escaping my lips. I sit up, pulling my shirt over my head. Then I slide on my underwear and shorts. I take a deep breath and pull myself off the bed.

I walk slowly down the stairs. I'm halfway down when James runs up and grabs my arm. He pulls me into the kitchen and flicks on the open-flamed burners.

Oh no.