If someone knows how to make breaks in the page and wants to tell me, it'd be greatly appreciated! I can't seem to go past more than one space between paragraphs.

DISCLAIMER: this scene gets a bit... uh, I guess one could say graphic/brutal sexually as well as physically, so tread lightly.

-lll-

Emma had been calm after lunch with Terri up until the drive home. From McKinley to her house, she had been anticipating her first run-in with Carl since he demanded an abortion. It wasn't helping that he was late coming home; he was usually home around 5:30. It was now 6:22.

At 6:38, a text message came in. BE READY TO GO TO DINNER. ILL BE HOME IN 15. Emma bit the inside of her cheek and went into her closet to find something to wear. She noticed as she undressed to her underthings that she was barely showing. Emma touched her stomach lightly and thought about what Terri had asked. What did Emma want? She ran a hand through her hair and closed her eyes before doing what she had only done once with Carl and his father: she prayed.

God, she said in her head. Please... Tell me what to do. Emma sat on the edge of the bed. She wanted a child, this child, but... Carl meant a lot to her. He could be cruel, but then again, everyone was.

Suddenly Emma felt a thump in her abdomen. The baby had kicked. Emma exhaled and touched her stomach again. Again, the baby moved inside of her.

"Emma!" Carl called out. The sound of the front door slamming followed after his voice. "Emma, you ready?" Emma quickly got up and went to her closet just as Carl entered the room. "You're not dressed yet?"

"N-No, I was just looking for something to wear." Carl met her at her closet and shoved clothes on their hangers around. "Here." Carl pulled out a deep virescent dress that, like most things Carl picked out, Emma found to be too tight and short for her. "Oh, uh..." Emma blushed as she tried to figure out an excuse for not wearing it. "Emma, this isn't a cheap dress. It's Antonio Berardi. Hurry, please. I'm starving." Emma nodded and waited for Carl to leave. Ignoring her hinting awkward stance, he stood in front of her, staring at her body. Emma shifted uncomfortably and glanced up at him before turning to head to the bathroom. "Wait." Carl grabbed her arm and looked her body over once more before moving his hand from her arm to her waist. She held her breath as his thumb began making light circles on her skin. "I should go change," Emma mumbled before pulling herself away and locking herself in the bathroom.

-lll-

It was obvious the two had nothing in particular to say to each other. Carl sipped on a glass of red wine, watching Emma carefully as she pushed her food around on the plate. "So, how has work been?" Carl asked lazily. For some reason unknown to Emma, she was nervous talking to him. "Fine. Nothing out of the ordinary."

"And Will? Has he spoken to you?" Emma shook her head. "Really? Hm. I find that hard to believe." Emma clenched her jaw shut as Carl downed the last of his wine. "It really does bother me, Emma, your guys' relationship."

"There is no relationship, Carl. Please, you have to believe me." Carl chuckled and scooted closer to her. "No, I don't. But maybe I will later. For now, however, I'd like to enjoy dinner."

-lll-

Finally, after (to Emma) what seemed like decades, they were home. Emma went straight into the bedroom and took off her heels and jewelry as Carl went into the kitchen for a glass of wine. "Emma... when..." His voice trailed off. Emma sighed and tried to unzip her dress. Suddenly Emma felt an arm slither around her waist. Carl kissed her shoulder and held her close to him as his other hand slowly unzipped her dress. "When's your doctor appointment?" he asked in a low voice, before dropping her dress to the ground. Emma shuddered and stared at the ground. "I... I didn't make an appointment."

Carl stepped back and turned her around quickly, confused. "What? Why not?"

"I can't... I want this baby." She looked up at him, hoping he wouldn't be too upset, but she knew immediately that the night had made a change for the worse. "So you're choosing it over me. Your husband." Emma began to get hot. "I'm sorry, I just... can't..." A few tears slipped down her face as she looked up at him sadly. As much as she hated hurting him, there wasn't a choice between him and her child. And though it was never said, they both knew it.

Suddenly, Carl grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her inches away from his face. "Ah, please stop -"

"Do you see what you do to me, Emma? Huh?" Carl shouted before shoving her onto the bed. Emma buried her face into the bed, shivering in fear and anticipation as Carl paced around the room. "You ungrateful bitch. After all of the shit I've done for you."

Calm down, Emma, calm down... She pulled her legs closer to her as Carl got closer, and repeated herself in her head over and over as Carl spoke. "I mean, I buy you nice things, take you to expensive restaurants, treat you like a queen, and what do you do?" Carl straddled Emma and spit in her hair. "You spit in my fucking face!" Carl leaned in close to her face. "You wanna say something?" he growled, touching her thigh. His voice and touch sent chills down her spine. Just say what you have to, don't make him mad anymore, Emma said over and over in her mind. "I'm sorry," she whispered. Suddenly, Emma's phone went off on the edge of the bed. Carl quickly grabbed it and looked at the caller ID before laughing. "Wow, this son of a bitch does not give up." Emma sat up and looked at the phone. "Were you supposed to see him?" Emma shook her head nervously. Do what he wants, Emma, lie, agree with him, lie some more, don't make him mad. "Bullshit," he said as he threw the phone at the wall.

Emma glanced at the clock on her nightstand. 11:46. "What, Emma?" Carl viciously grabbed her chin with his thumb and index finger, and forced her to look at him. "You want it to be over?" He smirked lasciviously and kissed her before pressing his sweaty forehead to hers. "You've got miles to go before you sleep." Carl ran his hands up Emma's legs and pulled them apart before pulling her close so that he was between them. "What are you... Carl, stop." He's just trying to scare you... Carl moved his hands slowly down Emma's thighs to her underwear, breathing heavily as he did so. Emma pushed his hands away. "Stop!"

Carl quickly grabbed her hair again and pulled so that she was on her back again. "Ah, Carl, stop it, please!" Carl pulled her hair harder, making her body curl up towards the ceiling, and ran his free hand up her torso, from her hips to her waist and finally to her chest. "Carl, let me go!" She pushed at his chest, but her small frame was no match for his. Carl removed his hand from her hair and grabbed both her wrists in his large palm. He pinned them over her head and began kissing her neck. "Do you wish it was Will, Em?" Carl said softly in her ear. Her body shivered with each hot word (words filled with nothing more than alcohol, anger, and lust) uttered from his mouth. His second hand moved from her chest to her underwear again, and began toying with the edge of them. Emma watched his hand move, then looked up at his face. He stared at her, his eyes dark, so dark, and face expressionless. It was at that moment Emma realized that

Carl was in fact not joking, nor trying to scare her, and that she was all alone.

Carl began to undo the button on his pants, his dead ebony gaze changing frighteningly slow from on her face to her chest. "Don't Carl, please, please, don't do this," Emma pleaded. Carl looked her dead in the eyes for what seemed like an eternity before slowly, slowly smirking an evil lopsided smirk Emma had only seen in her nightmares.

Please don't please don't please please please don't please don't DON'T...

Hot, desperate tears filled her eyes as she felt Carl move her underwear and press himself against her. She could feel him, hard between her shivering legs. The tears that she had been trying to hold in escaped her eyes. "Carl -" Hastily, he pushed into her, burying his stubbly, whiskery face in her neck as he did so. Emma gasped as her legs and back tensed up, and sharp jolt went through her inner thighs. "Do you wish Will was the one in you instead of me? Fucking you instead of me?" He thrust into her with as much force as he could, making her moan in agony. She realized he was trying to hurt her. Emma tried to free both of her hands from his one, but to no avail. Carl grabbed her thigh and squeezed it roughly before thrusting into her again, this time much harder. Hot tears ran down her face, to her neck, her ears, and lips as she began to sob. "Shut up, Emma," Carl spat. "HEL-" Emma began to scream, but Carl released her hands and punched her in the cheek, making Emma cry harder. "Shut the fuck up!" he hissed.

Carl grabbed her leg again and pushed harder into her. He kept this up, each time challenging himself to go deeper, harder, rougher. That bitch, he thought. How could she treat him like shit? He did love her. But she had to learn. This was her fault. She had been asking for it, and she deserved to be treated this way. She just pissed him off so damn much... And he had to remind her who was in charge. And I'm not really hurting her, he thought. We've done this before...

Carl studied her as he continued. Emma was shaking, and her thin frame was covered in a thin layer of sweat. She was breathing hard as well, harder than he had ever seen her. And then there was her face. Her beautiful face... It was covered in tears and mascara. He furrowed his brow as he noticed she was biting her lip and looking off to their side instead of at him. He kissed her roughly before returning his head to the crook of her neck. "You're not having fun? Huh?" he scoffed. "I'll make you have fun."

His ever-changing hand position was now in-between her legs and his fingers began to touch her most sensitive area. Emma moaned and gasped for air again, but this time no oxygen hit her lungs. She began to hyperventilate. "Carl... I, I can't breathe," she said shakily. Carl simply ignored her and continued to play with her. "Come on, baby, come for me," he whispered into her neck. Emma's eyes rolled back slightly as she began to get dizzy. Stay up, don't pass out, stay up. Emma looked at the clock again. 11:57. It's almost over...

And then it was. Carl's body shook on top of hers as he came. "Shit, Emma..." he sighed and kissed her collarbone before getting up and buttoning his pants. Emma sat up and tried to catch her breath. The last of her tears fell down her face as she hiccupped and wiped her thighs off. "Oh, stop with that shit. You act like you're still a virgin." Emma glanced at him and mumbled something inaudible under her breath. "What was that?" Carl said as he grabbed a bottle of Scotch and a glass from the mini bar in the corner. Emma ignored him and touched her leg where an impressive bruise was forming. Carl scoffed at her silence. "I know what you're thinking. You're thinking..." he took a sip of his drink before continuing. "You're thinking, 'Will could never fuck me like that." Emma's face got hot as Carl began to chuckle.

"Your father would have been disgusted."

Carl's laugh abruptly stopped. He gently placed his glass down and turned to Emma. "What was that?" Emma under eyed him nervously, but stayed quiet. Carl stared at her, his eyes boring holes into her own, as he slowly walked towards her. Emma quickly stood up, making her immediately feel dizzy. She placed a hand on the wall and began to unsteadily walk to the door, but Carl blocked her. "Say it again." Carl leaned in close to her face so that the two were about three inches apart and grabbed her arm. Emma clenched her jaw shut and furrowed her brow nervously as Carl began to squeeze her arm. "Say it." Don't say it, say something else. As much as she wanted to, Emma couldn't bring herself to say anything.

"Say it!" Carl shouted angrily. He grabbed both her arms and slammed her into the wall. Suddenly, Carl punched her in the ribs. Emma gasped and fell over into Carl's arms. Carl pushed her back into the wall and punched her once more in the torso before slapping her and punching her in the jaw. Emma fell to the ground and clutched her stomach in pain. "Carl, stop!" Emma screamed. Carl straddled her legs and gripped her neck with both hands. "You don't say shit about my father. You hear me?" Emma pulled at his hands as they tightened around her neck, but to no avail. She closed her eyes and gasped for air.

Carl finally let go and watched her body writhe under him as she took in as much oxygen as she could. She whimpered in pain and pushed at her hipbones with the base of her hands. Her body hurt so much, much more than anything she'd ever felt. Carl grabbed her jaw with his hand and turned her face to the side. "Ooh, Emma," he said as he admired the now light reddish-purple bruise on her cheek. "Have you learned anything tonight?" Emma wiped her nose with her middle finger and saw blood. She looked up at Carl angrily. "You're a fucking pig."

There was a flash in Carl's eyes when he suddenly punched her again in the face. Emma shrieked in pain and covered her face. "Are you testing me? Huh?" he shouted angrily. He threw another punch at her torso, this time hitting her square in the abdomen. A wheezy breath left Emma's throat as she clutched her stomach. Satisfied, Carl got off of her and walked to his glass of Scotch. Emma tried to get up, but her body failed her. Still, she had to get out. Emma got onto all fours and slowly headed towards the door.

Just then, her phone beeped. Carl glanced around before spotting the phone about a foot away. He snatched the phone up, then pressed a few buttons before finding what he had wanted. He pressed one more button and held the phone out they could both hear.

"Emma, it's Will. Uh... I wanted to talk to you. About what I said... I just wanted to tell you I meant it. I love you. Call me back." Carl closed his eyes as the voicemail ended. He then walked briskly to Emma. "Liar!" he shouted angrily, before kicking her in the stomach. Emma cried out in anguish and crumpled on the ground. In one swift movement, Carl turned her onto her back and straddled her. "You lied to me." Emma coughed and wheezed, fighting for air. "C-Carl... I -"

Carl socked her face again. Blood began to gush from her nose as he struck her again and again. Emma tried to scream, but only the sound of her choking on air or an occasional whimper escaped her lips. "You bitch," Carl shouted. Eyes closed, he hit her again and again, over and over.

Carl...

Carl opened his eyes again and saw blood everywhere. His eyes widened as he looked at the blood on his hands, puddled on the carpet, and covering a lifeless Emma. "Emma?" Carl nudged her lightly, but she did nothing. He grabbed her shoulders and lifted her off the ground. "Emma!" He shook her violently, but she did nothing. Tears started to fall down Carl's face. "Fuck! Fuck you, Emma!" He slammed her onto the ground and shook her some more. "Emma! Emma!" Nothing. Carl leaned over and buried his head in her shoulder. "Emma!" He sobbed. "Fuck... You fucking bitch... Please don't go, please..."

JUST A SIDENOTE: I'm not some Jesus freak, okay? But I do think it's interesting, the relationships people try to have with religious deities. Secondly! In case you know your designers, Antonio Berardi doesn't have a short dark green dress that I know of, sorry :] And, of course, I just had to steal a line from one of my favourite movies (can you find it?) which was taken from Robert Frost. Anyway, thanks for reading. Hopefully it got some sort of emotion out of you...