Thursday, November 17, 2011
"Utterly worthless," he called me. The words kicked around like an ox in my mind as I gathered up my discarded clothes and pride from the unclean floor. Anger flamed in my stomach, burning into my bones, creating fuel for my trembling legs. Rising from the floor, from my ashes, I locked eyes with my next obstacle, noticing how the morning light glinted though the windows on the door. It would be an easy escape. One twist of the knob, a foot over the threshold, into free land. Hardly anything fantastical about it. People walk through doors all the time.
The anger in my bones drove my fingernails into the palms of my hand, relishing the real pain, the physical pain, a departure from mental torture. The anger in my bones drew one silent foot into the air, brought it down on cool wood flooring. It was that easy.
I could do it.
I winced as worthless played a repetitive loop in my mind. Dropped my clothes, neatly folded, to the unclean floor.
"I knew you'd never do it," he said as I climbed back into bed.