unheard sounds

his heart fluttered with joy the second she walked in. he ran to hug her and laid a gentle kiss on her cheek. “I love you, amélie.” he whispered to her. she pushed him away and stomped up the stairs, leaving him confused. he was so confused as to why she pushed him away, and why the push was so forceful and wrathful. a tear rolls down his cheek and a sob just merely leaves his mouth.

for that whole day she pushed him away, she didn’t show him affection and didn’t want anything to do with him. he was heartbroken. he really had no idea what he did to her, after all, she had just came back from a 7 month trip. he asked her about the trip, what beautiful sights she’d seen, but no answer came out. it was just a sigh.

“amélie?” he whispered to his sleeping wife. “can we please talk?” he sniffles into her shoulder. “god dammit, I love you!” he says a little louder and wraps his arms around her waist. he silently cried into her back for hours, and she stayed awake, listening to his cries.

in the early morning, as the sun rises, he wakes up to sizzling sounds and the strong smell of bacon. he rises from bed and begins to walk downstairs. by the time he is down stairs, she is seen in the kitchen holding out a plate full of breakfast to an unknown man at the table, she smiles sweetly, and his heart drops. “amélie..” he muttered. she didn’t answer. he runs back upstairs and grabs a rope, that heavy duty one he got in plans of making a swing for amélie. he clutches his hand harder on it, and lets go, falling to the floor, crying. “god, why won’t she love me?”

each day, amélie gets closer to this guy, who later addresses his name, bill.

he gets out of bed in the early hours, before sunrise. it is 03:00 and as he leaves the room, he sees bill and amélie horizontal on the couch. without hesitation, he runs upstairs, grabs the rope, and ties his neck around it. he chokes loudly as he dangles from the ceiling, but it seems his sounds were unheard.

given too much

As I lie there, my skin exposed, my thoughts replay the sinful things I had just witnessed. His face was so lustful, he knew what he was doing. He heard my screams, he kept going. I will never forgive him for the disgusting things he did to me. I feel so dirty, so sinful, I need to shower, to wash my sins off my body. If I do, I fear it won’t be enough.

His hands were so forceful, and his large body was so heavy directly on mine, his skin felt so gritty and his eyes were locked on mine. I cried for help, he used one hand to cover my mouth, the other lay on my hip. His breath reeked of alcohol, which was so intoxicating to even breathe. The thought of him being drunk only made the situation worse, he was drunk and had cruel intentions.

I’m a child, he knows very well I’m underage, and that didn’t stop him. The clothes I wore that day are ruined, covered in blood, and my jeans are ripped. My hair was done so nicely that day, my side part was on point, my hair was pink straight, and so shiny. My eyeliner was perfectly done, hell, I looked like Avril Lavigne with brown hair. He ruined my looks.

I felt so beautiful before that, now I feel so ugly. My body is ugly, my face is ugly, I can’t put effort into my makeup anymore. Im breaking out, my skin is pale, and I can’t eat. I haven’t seen him since, but I sure hope he’s ashamed. I hope he dies in the most gruesome way possible. I hope my image scars his dirty brain and he just dies.

My body is so weak. I can barely walk, that’s what he wanted. With every push that night, he’d swear at me. My name that night was “love” or “slut”. Complete opposites. I hate those names now, I hate my own name. Anything he’s said to me are phrases I hate. I want nothing to do with him, and I’m so glad he’s gone, not in jail, yet.

He ruined me, he knows he ruined me. He made me give everything to him and more. I’ve given him too much of myself. I just want to be the person I was before that day.