I stood in front of the mirror. Crimson-colored blood blended together with tap water, staining the once white sink. I swallowed half a dozen of sleeping pills hoping they could somehow make me feel any better; but still, I feel very painful. Inside out.
Despite the ache, my mind kept on processing; asking me the same question:
"Why are you still here?"
Why? I don't have that answer myself.
As I wiped away the blood that kept oozing from the corner of my mouth; my eyes catched the image of him, sleeping in our bed.
And I smile.
"Why?" I try to argue with my mind.
"He hit you!"
"But he loves me!"
"Love is not enough to promise happiness!!"
Happiness? I don't have the right to talk about that. With messed up parents, I was not the happiest kid in the world. Growing up, I despise everyone because I thought they live better life than mine.
But my husband,he is special. He came into my life and brought every smile on my face. For once, I feel special. I feel blessed,knowing that my existence does have a purpose. I was meant to be with him. To be possessed by him.
So what power do I have to stop him from doing what he's doing? He loves me with all his heart, the least I could do is to be grateful and stick with him till the end. ...Right?
Imagination running wild.
:D