I've received twenty beatings within the last two weeks, and every time I grow weaker. My eyes are now vapid and lack the luster they once held. I can only lay in bed, bruised and bleeding.
I draw everyday, and it seems every piece of art I make I get blood on in.
He's been slowly killing me for roughly the last 11 of my life. When was I finally going to receive salvation?
Arthur's eyes were dark now, and they continually swirled. His grin wasn't even there anymore, instead his cute face was twisted with the most raw rage I'd ever seen.
My (e/c) began to droop, signalling it was time for me to take a nap. I haven't slept on a regular schedule for about a week.
I no longer could dream, escape and see his happy face. I could no longer gain comfort from his warm hugs or lovely cupcakes. My dreams were nothing but darkness.
I remember when we'd meet up and he'd sing me songs, sometimes we'd even bake together. It was only thing that made me smile anymore, and I didn't even have that.
When I finally awoke the first thing I realized was how warm it was. I grasped the warmth to find it was rather soft, like clothing.
After a minute of debating I opened my eyes. The clothes, were...Arthur's.
He looked down at me with a small, comforting smile.
"So you finally decide to show me?" I managed to choke out in a hoarse voice.
His face dropped and he rubbed my cheek with his thumb. "I'm sorry I didn't before...."
I smiled at how sweet he was and rested my hand on top of his.
He held me close and that's when I saw determination flash through those lovely eyes of his.
"If he comes tonight....I'll kill him."
I shocked me. He sounded so angry and protective.
"I won't let him hurt you again, I promise."
"I don't doubt it." a smiled made it's way across my bruised face. "I can hear the determined tone in your voice.
He smiled and was about to rub his nose against mine when we heard the familiar sound of the door slamming shut.
"______....Come to your door!" a beast like growl roared through the house.
Swiftly, Arthur picked me up and carried to my closet. He proceeded to gently hide me and make sure I was safe.
"Don't watch..." he whispered before closing the door.
Now I was trapped in darkness and my anxiety began to rise. I began calming my breathing and I closed my eyes.
But when you cut off one sense you heighten another.
My ears began to pick up sounds of their fight. There was a metallic clang of blades clashing and sometimes the sickening tearing of slicing skin and clothes.
I didn't mind to here any of that, so I covered my ears.
Now my sense of smell took over. Did you know that whatever you smell, you are also tasting it? That being said, I don't even want to decide the horrifying smell that overwhelmed my nostrils.
After some time the closet door opened. Relieved, I dropped my hands and looked up.
"Sorry for the mess, poppet."
I shook my head and jumped into his arms. "It's fine, you saved me!"
He giggled cutely and wrapped his arms around me. "I'd do anything for you.."
My imagination is a wonderful thing. It keeps me from going insane.
But it's also painful.
I slipped from my reverie and found my eyes still glued to the window, watching the snowflakes hypnotic dance.
A deep pain carved into my chest as I scoffed to myself and looked around.
My art teacher was giving me a concerned look, like he knew the very daydream that slipped through my mind.
I guess I have a morbid imagination, or maybe it's just my escape.
I do endure cruel beatings from a man who is as described before. He's not related to me, and he killed my parents. Now he's slowly killing me.
Daydreams are my only way of escaping the reality I have.
But nothing can save me from this hellish nightmare.
"Is this seat taken?" a shy and familiar voice asked.
"No, you can sit there." forcing a fake smile, I patted the seat. But when I glanced over at our new student, my eyes nearly popped out of my skull.
Hm...Maybe I can be saved.