The day before he came.
Summary: "Rattling on the roof, I must've heard the sound of rain. The day before you came." Life had been so much easier after the day he came . 3 sort of one-shots, describing the day before he came.
Rating: T
Spoilers: None.
Note: Hi my dear readers, how are you all doing? I know I have True Winner and At First Sight to update, but my head was so filled with a new idea that I just couldn't help myself. I hope you like it, please let me know. Xx.
Chapter 1: The day before you came.
It felt even harder than I thought it would. Number one, flat on my cheek. Number two, right on my eyebrow. Number three, bye bye plumb lip. I felt the taste of blood in my mouth and my sight flickered away every now and then. I knew he would stop soon. As long as I wouldn't yell, wouldn't fight back… He would stop. The fourth fist landed in my stomach, hurting more than all the others did together. I knew it was done now though. He murmured some words I couldn't quite understand, -though I could clearly hear him say whore,- before he left me in the corner of the room and walked away, probably to his bed. I stayed on the ground for a second, trying to regain my sight and reduce the pain in my stomach. I knew I would need a lot of make-up tonight during my performance. No one likes to see a black-eyed blonde on stage. How I was going to fix my eyebrow though was still a mystery. After a few minutes I got up. I grabbed my denim jacket that was hanging over the chair next to me, and grabbed my bag that was on top of the table. All the stuff I was going to need that night were in them. All of it.
I tried to get most blood away when I was in my car. On my way to the French Palace I stopped at the gas station to buy some cigarettes. Bad habit, I know. My body's used to violence though, so those cigarette probably won't kill me. It took me almost an hour to cover the bruised near my eye and on my cheek. The one on my lips was now covered with a little bandage, and after that I'd put my usual reddish lipstick on them. I guess I looked fine. I knew I looked fine. But if any of those costumers would ever look a little bit closer to me, I know they would see my eyes don't sparkle. They never do.
I got home early that next morning, around five. Eddie was sleeping tight, snoring lightly, and I knew he would feel it as soon as I would lie down next to him. I put my bag on the same table I usually did, and hung my denim jacket over the same chair I usually put it. I went to the bathroom, got out of my clothes and turned on the shower. The water dripped over my face, my hair, my body.. It removed all the make-up that had been covering the bruises that are currently on my body and face. I don't even want to know what it looks like.
I slipped in bed about fifteen minutes later, knowing Eddie would wake up in a second. He turned his face to me and I knew his eyes would flutter open in a second. I knew what would happen after that. He'd be sober again. His eyes would grow wide, and he would start apologizing. He would stroke my hair, kiss me everywhere he possibly could and tell me he would never do it again. He always told me he would never touch me again. And I always kissed him back. I would always let him stroke my hair. And all those events would repeat themselves sooner or later. I knew it. I always knew it. But I could never leave him. Never.
End. Of part 1. Second will be up soon! xx.