Silence Breaks the Heart
002. The Truth is Painful
I winced sharply as I fell and struck the corner of the tiny coffee table in Matt's living room, the sharp point digging into my side, twisting my skin. It hurt. It hurt all over. My head, my side, my heart.
"Get up, Haven.", Matt growled. I whimpered in fear of the man towering over my shaking body. How could it possibly have come to this? We used to be so good for each other, so right. Never a harsh word spoken. Now I was consistently forced to meet the hard, unforgiving ground and the bitter truth of the matter: the man I loved had become a monster.
And no one was ever the wiser. On the surface, Matt and I seemed like the perfect couple: loving, tender, compassionate. But digging just a little deeper, you'd find that we too harbored secrets. Dark lies, lurking in the shadows of our subconscious. Things that Matt and I both wanted to keep to ourselves, each for our own reasons. Matt because he knew the castigations would be severe-enough to land him in jail-and me, because as crazy as it sounds, I was still in love with Matt.
And I didn't want to let him go.
"Get up, Haven!", he yelled. Every muscle in my battered body tensed, sensing his foot swinging back, then his toe met squarely with my stomach. I cried out at the excruciating pain flooding through my broken and bruised body. This was hell.
"Oh God, oh God. Please let it stop.", I mumbled to myself. This was too much, all this pain. All this hurt, the physical and the emotional. As I lay cowering on the floor, I silently prayed to God to temporarily end this torture. I hoped this would be one of those days when God was listening, and Matt would ease off.
I cautiously picked myself up from the light blue carpet of Matt's living room, careful to keep my gaze as far away from Matt's blazing hazel eyes as possible. These days, I saw nothing of the love that had once filled Matt's eyes, turning his irises a dazzling amber. I missed it. Oh, I missed it so much.
Once I was steady on my feet, Matt spoke again, this time more calmly. "Go home, Haven.", he said. I stayed rooted to my spot. Conflicting emotions rushing through my head were making me tipsy, like our friend Brian after too much whiskey. Should I really leave, and feel like I'm giving up on Matt? Or should I stay, and suffer more pain at the hands of the man I loved? These questions plagued me every time I stood like this in front of Matt, and yet I still couldn't find the right answers.
"Go home, Haven!", Matt roared when I hadn't moved within two minutes. He swung his left fist at me, catching the right side of my jaw bone. I stumbled but didn't fall, and then I ran from the house.
When I got to my parent's house-where I still lived, but not for much longer-I inspected Matt's damage. My jaw was throbbing steadily and swelling. This would be hard to hide. But the aching stomach I could blame on cramps, and the bruise I could easily cover with a shirt. I delicately applied numerous layers of coverup to my jaw, wincing with each touch.
Afterwards I hurried into the bedroom to change shirts, scared beyond belief that someone would walk in and see the dark blue-black or blue-yellow bruises covering what seemed like every conceivable inch of my skin. I always wore long-sleeved shirts and jeans, no matter the weather. I honestly couldn't remember the last time I'd let anyone see my arms and legs bare.
Just as I slipped the dark purple blouse over my head, my bedroom door opened and my mother stepped into the room. I quickly covered the worst of my injuries with the shirt in my hands. My heart was beating fast. How much could she have seen?
"Haven, I just wanted to ask you when you wanted to go shopping for your college things.", she said, making small talk. Oh, thank the Lord. Maybe she hadn't seen. "I was thinking next Saturday-" Suddenly my mother stopped midsentence, eyeing me warily. "Haven, what is that?"
"What?" Please God, let her be talking about something else, anything else, but the bruises.
"All those bruises. Haven, where did these come from?"
Finally realizing the truth was out, I fell bawling into my mother's comforting arms, and she whispered to me soothingly. Maybe it was for the best that this was happening. Maybe this was Fate telling me to give up on Matt for good. But a small part of me didn't want to.
"Haven, who did this to you?"
With a deep, rattling sob, I replied, "Matt."
And just like that, I could feel my entire world slipping through my fingers.
"Get up, Haven.", Matt growled. I whimpered in fear of the man towering over my shaking body. How could it possibly have come to this? We used to be so good for each other, so right. Never a harsh word spoken. Now I was consistently forced to meet the hard, unforgiving ground and the bitter truth of the matter: the man I loved had become a monster.
And no one was ever the wiser. On the surface, Matt and I seemed like the perfect couple: loving, tender, compassionate. But digging just a little deeper, you'd find that we too harbored secrets. Dark lies, lurking in the shadows of our subconscious. Things that Matt and I both wanted to keep to ourselves, each for our own reasons. Matt because he knew the castigations would be severe-enough to land him in jail-and me, because as crazy as it sounds, I was still in love with Matt.
And I didn't want to let him go.
"Get up, Haven!", he yelled. Every muscle in my battered body tensed, sensing his foot swinging back, then his toe met squarely with my stomach. I cried out at the excruciating pain flooding through my broken and bruised body. This was hell.
"Oh God, oh God. Please let it stop.", I mumbled to myself. This was too much, all this pain. All this hurt, the physical and the emotional. As I lay cowering on the floor, I silently prayed to God to temporarily end this torture. I hoped this would be one of those days when God was listening, and Matt would ease off.
I cautiously picked myself up from the light blue carpet of Matt's living room, careful to keep my gaze as far away from Matt's blazing hazel eyes as possible. These days, I saw nothing of the love that had once filled Matt's eyes, turning his irises a dazzling amber. I missed it. Oh, I missed it so much.
Once I was steady on my feet, Matt spoke again, this time more calmly. "Go home, Haven.", he said. I stayed rooted to my spot. Conflicting emotions rushing through my head were making me tipsy, like our friend Brian after too much whiskey. Should I really leave, and feel like I'm giving up on Matt? Or should I stay, and suffer more pain at the hands of the man I loved? These questions plagued me every time I stood like this in front of Matt, and yet I still couldn't find the right answers.
"Go home, Haven!", Matt roared when I hadn't moved within two minutes. He swung his left fist at me, catching the right side of my jaw bone. I stumbled but didn't fall, and then I ran from the house.
When I got to my parent's house-where I still lived, but not for much longer-I inspected Matt's damage. My jaw was throbbing steadily and swelling. This would be hard to hide. But the aching stomach I could blame on cramps, and the bruise I could easily cover with a shirt. I delicately applied numerous layers of coverup to my jaw, wincing with each touch.
Afterwards I hurried into the bedroom to change shirts, scared beyond belief that someone would walk in and see the dark blue-black or blue-yellow bruises covering what seemed like every conceivable inch of my skin. I always wore long-sleeved shirts and jeans, no matter the weather. I honestly couldn't remember the last time I'd let anyone see my arms and legs bare.
Just as I slipped the dark purple blouse over my head, my bedroom door opened and my mother stepped into the room. I quickly covered the worst of my injuries with the shirt in my hands. My heart was beating fast. How much could she have seen?
"Haven, I just wanted to ask you when you wanted to go shopping for your college things.", she said, making small talk. Oh, thank the Lord. Maybe she hadn't seen. "I was thinking next Saturday-" Suddenly my mother stopped midsentence, eyeing me warily. "Haven, what is that?"
"What?" Please God, let her be talking about something else, anything else, but the bruises.
"All those bruises. Haven, where did these come from?"
Finally realizing the truth was out, I fell bawling into my mother's comforting arms, and she whispered to me soothingly. Maybe it was for the best that this was happening. Maybe this was Fate telling me to give up on Matt for good. But a small part of me didn't want to.
"Haven, who did this to you?"
With a deep, rattling sob, I replied, "Matt."
And just like that, I could feel my entire world slipping through my fingers.
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word count: 813