"He holds my head in an iron grip, well knowingly I feel like I'm choking on his dick. He takes pleasure in seeing me struggle. I swallow the best I can so that he will let go. He finally does, giving me that creepy and evil smile while he calls me a good girl. I smile back at him the best way I can, hoping this punishment is enough. At least he didn't beat me this time. I'm nothing really, just a thing he can do with as he likes, a good girl when I need to be. He goes to bed, falling asleep with a satisfied smile on his face while I lie there fighting the dark thoughts that won't leave me alone. It's not a dream. It's a memory."
He growled lowly as he read the words. Never had he thought she would write down these things. If anyone was to find this, he would be in big trouble. If it hadn't been for him not able to find his phone - he was sure he had it in bed this morning - he wouldn't have lifted the mattresses and found the book under hers. He turned the page, giving the date in the corner a quick glance before reading her words.
"His fists hit like a hammer. Sometimes I wish he would use a hammer instead. Just crack it as hard as possible on my skull to send me into darkness with one blow so I won't feel the pain from the next ones that follow. And more always follows. I taste blood with the first blow tonight. With the third blow I feel one of my teeth on my tongue. It scares me as he continues to hit. I concentrate on keeping the tooth in my mouth so I won't swallow it. I don't know how many times he hits but at some point he stops. I crawl to the bathroom and pull myself up by the sink. I spit out my tooth before looking in the mirror. I'm not even surprised anymore when I see my face like that. It's not a dream. It's a memory."
He flipped through more pages, getting more angry as he saw the book was nearly full. This was serious business. She had gone behind his back to write down everything. Every page ending with the same words.
"It's not a dream. It's a memory."
"Camille!" He roared.
She swallowed as she heard his voice. He was angry. She tried running through her head every little thing she had done this day but she couldn't come up with one thing that could have made him angry.
"Where the fuck are you?" He yelled.
"I'm downstairs!" She yelled back.
Keeping quiet wouldn't do her any good and running away didn't seem like an option either. She leaned her back against the kitchen counter, her fingers gripping hard on the surface. She knew she was about to be punished. She just didn't know why or how bad it would be.
"You think you can get away with this?" He threw the book on the kitchen table.
"Sheamus, I..." She started.
"Shut up!" He backhanded her. "Who did you show it to?"
"No one," she said.
"Don't fucking lie to me!" Another backhand. "Who did you show it to?"
"No one!" She cried. "I swear, Sheamus, it's just me rambling. No one's ever gonna see it."
"That's fucking right!" He growled.
His fists rained down, hammering away on her head and body. She fell to her knees, trying to protect herself as much as possible. He stopped after a while, crossing his arms while waiting for her to raise her head to look at him. When she finally did, he pointed at the book on the table.
"You're burning that thing right now and if I ever catch you writing something like that again..." He left the threat hang open.
She knew it. She had known it for a long time but she had kept pushing it to the back of her head. She couldn't anymore. She knew there would only be one way out of this relationship and she had had enough. She wanted out now. She turned sideways to grab the kitchen counter and pull herself up. She looked up at him and spat a mouthful of blood into his face.
"Fuck you!" She said.
For a second he stood completely still as his mind couldn't comprehend what she had just done. She watched her dark red blood mix into his lighter red beard. His eyes turned hard again and with one hard blow, she was back down on her knees.
"Fuck you, Sheamus! Fuck you!" She yelled.
"Shut up, you bitch!" He yelled back. "Shut the fuck up, Camille!"
His fists kept hammering down and he started kicking too. Soon she was lying down on the cold floor, not even trying to protect herself anymore. He stopped as fast as he had begun and she had to do something.
"No one's seen that," she coughed between her words. "But someone has a copy and that person will deliver it to Stephanie next week."
"Who?" He asked.
She started grinning and he leaned over her to grab her hair.
"Who?" He yelled.
She wasn't gonna drop a name. There wasn't a copy but she needed him to believe that lie.
"Last chance. Tell me who or I'll beat it out of you," he warned.
He was gonna beat her no matter what, he was already beating her, so she just continued to grin. He slammed her head down into the floor before continuing with his punches and kicks.
"Tell me who!" He shouted.
She felt him slow down and she didn't want that. She needed to keep him angry in order to finally get out. She gathered all her remaining strength to whisper those two words at him one more time.
"Fuck you!"
He roared in anger and picked up the pace again. She felt herself start slipping in and out of consciousness. And then it was suddenly like she couldn't feel the pain anymore. She heard her own voice loud and clear inside her head, forming the words that should but never would go down on the next page of the book.
"He finds the book, the truth about everything he's ever done to me, and he's angry. More angry than ever. And I continue keeping that anger alive, putting more fuel on the fire. He hits and kicks, punishing me because in his world that is his right. I'm his to do with as he pleases. I'm done. I'm out. This is where I die. It's not a dream. I won't be around to remember it."