agotar-to wear down
la mina-mine
aferrar-to grasp
Right now, Faith was fast asleep, cuddled up with her husband. The day had been a nice one for both of them; she and Antonio had worked until 22:00 (10:00 pm) the at the restaurant, and then Antonio's father sent them home. Taking advantage of the extra time they had, the two decided to have some "adult nap time" before of course, actually going to bed. Afterwards, they fell asleep snuggled together. However, for Faith, pleasant dreams gave way to something horrible, and now she was in the grips of a horrible nightmare.
She was standing in their apartment, making dinner, trying to make sure that the food wouldn't burn. Every time she turned around, the burner would get hotter, and she had to constantly move the food around to prevent char marks from forming. She was afraid of what would happen if the food would burn, so she worked hard over the pot. She turned away for a second, why, she wasn't really sure, but when she returned, the food was burned. Suddenly, Antonio was looming over her, his usual cheerful face angry and harsh. He looked like a mine ready to explode.
And he did, backhanding her so hard that Faith could feel her head snap back.
"Antonio," she said in a shocked whisper, her hand on her sore cheek. He ignored her though, making it somehow more terrifying, and continued to hit her, moving from slaps to punches. After a little bit he seemed to get bored of just using his bare hands and then decided to pick up a stick-from where she didn't know-but he then began to use that as well. And all she could do was to throw up her hands to block the hits to her face and cry.
Faith woke up with a start, feeling the cold fear sink in her heart. Tears streaked down her face from the leftover panic and fear, creating lines on her face. She could feel Antonio's arm around her waist. While his grip was loose as usual, it felt like a trap, and she panicked slightly.
"It's just a dream," she breathed before carefully extracting herself from his grip, grabbing a bathrobe to wrap around herself. She padded quietly to the kitchen to grab a glass of water in order to wash the bad taste out of the back of her mouth. When she finished, she placed her cup in the sink and headed back to the bedroom, still on edge.
She stood just inside the door and studied him in the dark. This was Antonio, the most lovable and sweetest man on earth. But the shadows of her dream remained in her mind. He could beat her if chose; he was strong enough, and she knew that she would be helpless to prevent it. It wasn't abnormal for husbands to beat their wives, after all, it had been going on since the beginning of time. What's to stop him from doing it? Society? There are plenty of ways to hide bruises so that people could not find them. Plus the courts could always be manipulated.
Faith shook her head, trying to dispel the irrational thoughts. But every thought was like a pebble, creating a large stone that sunk in the bottom of her stomach.
Instead of getting back into bed, she sat on the small armchair in their room in an effort to stay awake. Too often had she gone immediately back to sleep after a bad dream and had a repeat of the same terrifying dream. She stared blankly into the room, trying to focus on anything but the clock or her sleeping husband. After a while she spaced out on the window, thinking about what she had to get done tomorrow on their day off when she was started by his voice.
¨Morning sunshine.¨ Her eyes refocused on her husband's face, and found his green eyes wide open, a small smile working its way onto his face. Faith smiled briefly, but the panic in her gut made her look away from his gaze and focus her eyes on the floor.
That's when she realized that she was afraid of him; afraid of his wrath and afraid of what he could do to her. When she processed that, she felt horribly guilty. She should know better than to let her fears run away with her. But her fear was greater than her guilt and the sensation left.
"It's two in the morning Antonio," she said, softly. He gave a groan, as much of a morning person he could be, it was far too early to be awake.
"What are you doing up so early? Come on back to bed," he said, gesturing with his hands. Faith got up with some trepidation and laid down next to him, letting his arms encircle her. She could feel her heart racing but she knew nothing should be wrong. She knew that she was just making mountains out of molehills. But she was still stiff in his arms. "What's wrong?" he asked, feeling her tension.
"Nothing," she answered quietly. She stole a glance at his face, and he was frowning slightly at her. She looked away, cuddling up to Antonio's bare chest, and splayed her hand on if, feeling its rise and fall. She began to gently spell their names on his bare skin with her fingertip. This was her Antonio. This was real; this was safe. His hands went to her back, and she could feel his fingers burning the skin underneath as his hand rubbed back and forth. She exhaled noticeably as she felt calmer and could feel his concern focusing back on her as he tried to search her face. She kept her gaze stubbornly focused on his chest to avoid anything her face could give away.
"We should get some sleep," she said, trying to take his attention off of her. Antonio was one to not press if the matter was trivial; Faith hoped that he would let this one go. But that was not to happen tonight.
"Something's wrong Faith. Tell me." His voice was low from the lazy sleep-haze. Faith shook her head in reply and shut her eyes. She felt his arm leave it's place around her and reach to grip her chin, tilting her face so that he could see her face. She opened her eyes as he cupped her face, stroking it with his thumbs, only to have his ministrations abruptly stop. "You were crying," he said; a statement not a question. Faith could hear the frustration in his voice as she was left with no more protests; he had worn them all down.
"I just had a bad dream, that's all," she replied, trying to downplay the incident.
"It must have been a pretty bad one if you were crying," Faith broke eye contact with him, so Antonio gently kissed her tear-stained face, and in that moment she broke and finally spilled.
"I had a dream you were hitting me," her voice came out, halting and tinged with fear. Antonio's hands froze on her face and she watched as his eyes darted around. Faith looked away and broke her face from his grip and buried it in his chest so that she would not have to face him, her heart racing. She could feel a strong emotion building up in him as his arms went around her whole body in a tight grip, pulling her close, but she was unsure as to what it really was.
"I'm not going to hit you Faith," his voice was thick with feeling. "Don't you ever doubt that."
"I know, it's irrational and stupid and nothing more than a dream, but it felt so...real." She said into his chest. Again he extracted her from her cocoon and sat up, carefully kissing her, and she responded back, kissing him hard. They broke slowly, gasping for air. Antonio moved to grip her arms when they had finally caught their breaths.
"I don't want you to be afraid of me. I'm not going to hurt you." He looked at her intently, trying to convey so much more than what could be said in words. Faith understood instantly and the dominance the fear held over her was broken.
"I know. I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry." She nodded and exhaled. The two slumped down on the bed, but Antonio kept his head propped up on the wall. Emotionally spent, Faith placed her head on Antonio's chest, taking in all that he had told her. Eventually, her exhaustion won out and she fell asleep.
Antonio, for his part, struggled to get back to sleep, and stayed awake for while after wards, the sinking feeling having wormed its way into his gut. Eventually he too fell asleep, but not before vowing multiple times that Faith would never have to any reason to be afraid of what he could do to her.
I know that this is no way accurate to actual domestic abuse and her reactions were overblown; but please keep in mind that she was dreaming and that Faith was probably PMSing slightly as well to account for the over panicking.
To be honest, I was reading a book for English and it talked about how the main character was beat by the man that loved her because another man was looking at her, and not because of any encouragement on her part. And I couldn't help but wonder about that. Think about it, someone that you love very much hitting you over and over again, and you can't stop them. I know there are self-defense options, but not everyone can appropriately defend themselves against that, especially if you aren't expecting it from the person you love. So I decided to incorporate this into this chapter.
Ok, I'm off my soap box.
Even though when I originally thought to include the abuse dynamic in this, I wasn't focusing on how this relates to Antonio, I think it's important that he is the character for this one. Characters like Russia, Romania, Germany, France, and some others are easy to see how they could be potential abusers. But Spain has such a sunny personality-to have this great evil fearing from someone like him shows almost the risk people (especially girls though) take in the relationships they get into. It doesn't matter what their ordinary personality is like, there is also the capacity for a darker side to come out.
Now I'm off my soap box. Thanks for sticking by me through this messy topic.
Sorry it took me so long to update. Please send me words suggestions!
Te Amo Mis Amigos de Internet!
