The Recording

She pulled out the recorder hoping to god that she was able to catch something that would put him away for good. She was sick of the bruises the hospital visits she couldn't take it anymore. She needed out and the only way out was to get something to take him very very far away from her. She pressed record as she heard his truck door slam shut. The door was kicked open. It was another bad night at work and then at the bar. She smelled the alcohol from three rooms over. Fuck. This was going to be horrible. One last check to make sure the thing was on she threw it under the bed. The bedroom door slammed open putting a hole back in the newly patched wall.

"You bitch." You stomped toward her. His frown deep, and his eyes full of alcoholic anger. Oh shit. Oh shit. His fist clipped her chin as she scrambled backwards. He growled and reached for her ankle as she tried to swing her leg away from her. She knew better than to run but she couldn't help it. The fear took hold and the tears started streaming.

"Please. No."

He yanked her toward him. She could feel the bruise starting to form. The bed creaked as he got on top of her. Yanking her shirt off, she tried to push him off. Nothing happened. He grab a fistful of hair and pull her ear to his mouth.

"You know better than to fight me, whore. You deserve this."

She cried out. Hoping that just once he would grow bored of this torture. His index finger wiggled underneath the front of her bra. And he pulled, ripping it off. The front pieces falling apart and off to the sides. He roughly grabbed her breasts. She wanted desperately for him to knock her out, a rare occasion since he loved when she fought and cried.

"Please don't do this. Please leave me alone." His face twisted into pure rage. He grabbed the lamp sitting on the night stand next to the bed.

"Maybe I should kill you. It's always on my fantasy list. Fucking your dead body." She wiggled underneath him, watching as he grew more excited. Fuck. I missed this up even more. I'm not going to make it to turn this recording into the police. Fuck. God help me. The Lamp came down on her temple. Once. Twice. Three time. She started bleeding. He started laughing and ripped her shorts and panties off. And he did as he pleased with her. She died as he started fucking her growing cold body. Hearing the grunts and sounds of pleasure. Feeling him in her rough like sandpaper. Everything went black.