He roughly grabs her wrist and she winces at his cold touch. Her eyes drop to his hand that is now holding her even tighter than it was a few seconds ago. She gasps and a hint of fear makes its entrance into her glacial eyes. She feels as if her fragile wrist is about to shatter into tiny little pieces but she manages to hide the pain welling up inside her. Soon enough she finds the strength and lifts her gaze to peer into his flazing eyes. Perhaps if she stares into his eyes, she might recognise the man she once knew and loved. After all, her stern look always seemed to pacify him and ease his nerves. At this thought, she gets a glimmer of hope. “He loves me” she keeps reminding herself and reassuringly imagines that after regaining his senses, he will cry out “I am sorry, i am sorry” in this hoarse voice of his. But instead he forcefully pulls her closer to him while sliding his free hand through her back, shielding her from getting away, shattering completely the hope of her escape.
“Let me go!!” She finally hollers at him, while struggling to get out of his pretentious embrace which only makes her inside world whirl with disgust. He lowers his face as if to whisper something, presumambly a threat but instead he does not utter a word. The only sound in the room is his heavy and hot breathing which traces the woman’s cheek, causing her skin to sting. She grimaces, she hates the feeling.
Struggle as she might, she is unable to get away from his grip as it becomes tighter and tighter, his fingers almost digging through the clothes to meet her bare skin.
“Help!” She desperately blurts out but with no one around to hear her cry, such a wish hardly has any chances of coming true. She panics, starts shivering, surrendering herself utterly to fear. This is it, she is thinking, this is it. Meanwhile he takes a good look at her face, examines it. What confronts him is a sight of a woman’s pale face. The muscles in her face are contracted and the once toothed smile which was playing on her lips is now replaced by sealed and puckered lips, no air seeming to coming in and out of them. An evil grin flickers on his lips. Her growing fear makes him feel powerful all the more. One would be saddened to know the things he did to her whenever the night fell. One would also be saddened to know the throbbing pain in her chest every time he entered the house drunk and in need of some entertainment. At nights like this he would shout at her, accusing her of every upheaval arising in his way. Some nights, such was his anger that he would throw things at her, every object that was in his proximity. He did not seem to care in the slightest. But in nights like these he would eventually get bored, losing his interest and when she stood lucky enough, he would collapse on the bed after half an hour had passed. While he was lying on the bed, the woman would sit in the living room and cry silently. She never shed a tear in front of him, she would never allow herself to show the pain he was inflicting on her. Wiping off her tears, she would kneel down on the floor clearing up the mess he had created as her mind would race to the things she might went wrong. But what might saddens one even more is that his wife was the only witness of the monster he could turn into.