The Cycle

The apartment tilted around her as bile rose from deep within her throat. Belle found herself grasping at the wall to try and stabilize herself. Knees were growing weak as the floor beneath her continued to rock.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The heavy fall of a fist against the door rattled through the air – she felt it reverberate through her pulsing skull. Silence echoed through the room until the knocks erupted once more. They were heavy and getting progressively more frantic each time. As if something was dragging her from the mess before her and towards the door, Belle’s sock clad feet took the steps slowly.

The knocks continued to shake the whole of the apartment. Her hand grasped the knob, and despite the sense of preservation grown inside her, she opened the door.

Hunted prey looked at the predator who stalked her nightmares.

“There you are!” He barged in, narrowed gaze taking in the apartment and the woman standing confused in the doorway. Belle took her eyes off of him – something she’d learned to never do – to look into the distressed apartment.

The fog eating at her gaze cleared as she looked at the room – the room that was in perfect clean order. She blinked several times, looking over the tight space in search of the thing that had set her into such a panic. She could see nothing out of the order. Her hand went to her throbbing eye socket, confusion setting in deeper as everything seemed to settle around the man who’d entered into her safe space.

“How did you find me?” Belle closed the door slowly, but kept herself standing near the exit. Her hand ran across her torso absentmindedly, like her fingers were searching for something amiss.

The man’s face was soft upon first glance, but the hardness within his gaze was clear. Edward closed the distance between them, and he reached behind her. Belle could not hide the wince that overtook her whole body as the door was locked.

He frowned down at her, lacing a finger through her short brown hair. “That doesn’t matter, babe. I told you, you belong with me.”

He twirled her hair between his fingers, giving it a tug that at one time had seemed playful. When his finger brushed against the edge of her bruised jaw, Belle made to push him away. She wasn’t able to get much distance between them, but it was enough that she slid under his arm and moved to get space between them.

His grip on her elbow was hard – it wasn’t always hard when he touched her, but it never was surprising when it was. She found herself stopped by his hold, and the space within her skull began to grow foggy once more. The taste of acid tickled at the back of her tongue.

Edward spun her back around, placing her back against the living room wall. He was tall, so much taller than her, so he placed a firm grip on her chin to tilt her gaze onto his. Fire resided within his hazel gaze. The stubble on his chin seemed to perk up with how tight his jaw was clenched. He looked disheveled, like her absence the last few days had really affected him.

He narrowed his gaze as he looked over her own state of dishevelment. He flipped her arm over, thumb pressed tight against the vein in her wrist as he looked over her arm. “Jesus, are you using again?”

Belle stood still as he manhandled her arm, rising anger within her chest. He was stronger than her, so she didn’t fight his grip. “No. I’m not.”

The feeling settled within her was nothing like the drugs she’d once polluted her body with. Those highs had always felt as close to heaven as she’d ever be given. This was different – she felt like fog had spread between her ears and overtook every thought she had. She felt like she was missing something, like her gaze was roaming over the room, trying desperately to spot something that she knew must be there. Something that was missing.

A sigh passed through Edward’s lip, like this conversation was laborious for him partake in. “You know what you’re like when you use. You don’t think straight.”

“I am thinking just fine.” His grip loosened on her just enough that she pulled her arm free. Bringing it to her chest, she tried to steady her breathes. She kept her gaze locked onto his, despite her much her gaze was shaking. “You need to leave.”

Edward snickered. “It’s time to come home, babe.”

“I’m not leaving,” there was a quiver to her voice, “you need to go.”

Stepping away from her, Edward ran a hand through his messy hair. Everything about his stance was tight, like a viper that was ready to strike. He looked over the apartment, jamming a finger at the photo set on the wall. It was a photo of nothing in particular, just a family at the beach, but the familiar tanned male face spurred his anger.

“Is this the reason you’re acting like this – running off to be with him? I knew something was going on between you two.”

Belle back was pressed tightly against the yellow wallpaper, as if she could slip into the wall should she will in enough. She took the slightest step to the side, trying to get any distance between them. “I’m not running off with anyone. He’s just a friend –”

“Just a friend,” he spoke with a dark chuckle, “I never trusted that man. Always knew he wanted to bang you, of course he’d take the chance to play hero while you’re acting like this. Were you already sleeping with him while with me or did you at least wait until after you ran off and ruined the life we had together before fucking him?”

Belle didn’t bother entertaining that ridiculous line of questioning, nor the projection he was placing upon her coworker. She’d made it several steps deeper into the living room, before a side table faltered her path. The purple flower vase wobbled as she bumped the table. Edward once more closed the distance between them, making sure not to touch her but blocking any further movement. His breath was warm against her chilled skin.

“Babe, just come home. We can forget about all of this. You know I love you. I treat you right. I treat you better than any other man would treat you, and you know that. I think I’ve proven to you, just how much I love you, by everything I’ve done for you.”

Biting her lower lip, Belle was struggling to keep her breathing level. When he got like this, she knew the one tactic that could most likely bring him down. “I know, and I will always be thankful for all you’ve done, but I need you to leave. I’m ending things. I need you to respect that.”

His fist slammed next to her head as the flattery failed to land. The impact caused the painting on the wall to fall. It landed with a heavy thud, glass shattering around their feet. Edward’s jaw grew tighter as he looked at the mess.

“Now look what you’ve done.” His fist was clenched tight beside her head. She felt the tug of him grasping at her hair. “I think this has gone on long enough, Belle. It’s time to stop this foolishness. It’s time to come home.”

She almost crumbled under the grip her held on her hair. The fog dancing within her skull melded with the pressure from his grip. This was a familiar position – an all too familiar position – and one that she’d found herself submitting to one too many times. Her voice shock as she offered a plea, “please, let go of me and just leave.”

His grip tightened on her hair before letting go, only for his hand to snatch up her wrist and drag himself closer to her. “I said I was sorry, babe. Jesus, do you have to keep holding this over my head! I said I was sorry. I said I wouldn’t do it again! I told you, she meant nothing to me, was just a dunked mistake. You said you forgave me.”

The irony of him apologizing for the bruising across her face while he was crafting similar bruises against her wrist was not lost on her. The irony of him apologizing for sleeping with his coworker after just placing those sins upon her bed was not lost to her. The fury of his ‘drunk mistake’ being something that he could just easily brush off was a disrespect she could no longer tolerate.

She tried to tug her wrist free, only for him to tighten the grip. Cold began to spread through her fingers as her blood circulation struggled against his grasp. The fire within his gaze was burning hotter than she’d even seen those embers be stoked. She’d seen him mad, had the marks upon her body to remember those times he’d gotten into such a state. This was different than any normal anger. This was a fury that she’d always feared would come for her.

Setting her spine as straight as steel, Belle let a measured breathe escape her lips. She wasn’t going to cower. Wasn’t going to bow. Wasn’t going to go home with him.

“It’s over Ed. I’m not going home with you. You need to leave before I call the police.”

He looked at her like he couldn’t believe the words coming from her mouth. When his grip left her wrist, she thought for a second that maybe he’d finally allow her the respite and would leave.

Instead, his fist was slammed into her stomach. The air she’d been trying so hard to control was sent wildly from her lips. She could only wheeze as the back of his hand slammed heavily against her cheek, sending her tumbling over, torso crashing against the side table. The clutter was sent toppling, more glass shattering around their feet as a vase exploded beneath her and the little clutter items were thrown about. Before a word could pass her lips, he gripped the back of her head, slamming it against the table before dragging her to look at him once more.

Pain coursed through her body. The warmth of blood upon her lip told her that either her nose had been broken or her lip had busted. Either way, there was blood on her face. A piercing pain was shooting from under her left breast. Each breath she took, moved that pain deeper within her body. Something felt wrong. Something felt very wrong as the same feeling of warm liquid was building up along the base of her bra.

The fog returned with a fury. Her vision was beset by a blur as she was forced to once more look at the predator before her. He wasn’t touching her now, he didn’t need to as his point had been made – while his hands were not on her now, they could easily be at any moment.

“Jesus fuck babe!” Edward ran a hand through his hair, offsetting the dark locks. He dragged his hand down his face, looking away like he wanted to not see the damage he’d caused. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… I got angry, you know how I get sometimes. Not an excuse, I know that, but damn… why do you have to act like this? Why are you so difficult? Why do you make me do these things?”

Edward looked at her like he expected her to answer. Belle could only stare, fearful that if she opened her mouth, she’d most likely just parrot all the words he’d beaten into her. She wanted to scream for him to leave. Scream for him to never look at her again, never touch her again. She wanted to scream for him to just remove himself from her life and let her just live on. She wanted to beg him to leave her go.

The only thing passing through her lips was a whimper as apologizes fought to be spoken.

He seemed please with how quickly he’d kowtowed her behavior. A smile was pulling over his lips. Despite his attempts to look contrite about what he’d just done, his smugness was slipping through. He turned to her, slowly reaching a hand out for her to take.

“We’ve both fucked up, wouldn’t you say?” Edward was speaking was a flat tone. The venom was still present beneath. “Why don’t we just forget everything that’s happened and go home.”

He closed the distance between them. Once more, his hand tugged her chin upwards so she was forced to meet his gaze. “I love you. God, how much I love you, babe. I need you. You need me. We’re meant to be together, you know this, right?”

She didn’t speak for her throat was quivering far too much to produce any words. She could only stand with her back to the wall; she was prey being cornered with very little to protect herself with.

The grip on her chin was slowly lowering. “I love you. And you love me. Right?”

His fingers pressed against the skin of her throat. Her entire body was trembling. The pain under her breast had begun to dull as the fog continued to over set her. The apartment seemed to shift beneath her feet, the walls beginning to lean – or maybe it was their bodies that were leaning towards the ground. The world had slowed its spin beneath her feet as as the entire universe seemed to focus on this interaction. The air within this room grew acidic.

“Tell Me You Love Me!” His free hand punched the wall, leaving an indent in the faded yellow wallpaper. He didn’t even look at his bleeding knuckles as he loosened his fist so he could place his palm flat against the wall right next to her head.

“I love you,” the words passed through her lips. His hand was still resting over her throat with a gentle caress. The tears pricking at the edges of her eyes began to fall in heavy waves. “I love you. But you need to leave.”

The instant that hand tightened around her throat, Belle grasped a broken vase shard, and drove it into his neck.

Edward pressed his hand tighter against her throat, before he was forced to let her go rather quickly. She inhaled the air he’d attempted to steal from her lungs. His hand went to his own throat, trying to stop the blood that was spurting from his jugular and painting not just the walls, but Belle’s face. He had a scream ready on his tongue, but only blood dribbled from his lips. A weak grasp was given at the collar of her shirt, before Edward was sent toppling over.

It was quick, far quicker than Belle thought a person would die. As Edward lay there, the life slipping onto the carpeted floor, Belle could only watch with her back pressed against the wall as the man who’d haunted her darkest nightmares stopped breathing. She didn’t move until the gurgling stopped forming within his throat. Till his back stopped rising with breathes. Till his hands went slack against the blood soaked floor.

The apartment continued to tilt as everything around her distorted with the incoming fog. Nothing felt real, not even the pain that was blossoming beneath her breast. She dragged her hand up her torso, fingers quickly finding the warm blood that was dribbling from her skin. A jagged shard of the flower vase protruded through her skin. Her shirt was soaked in blood, both hers and his. She tasted the blood rolling down her face from her other injury – the acid returned to her tongue as the idea of his blood spray getting into her mouth nearly turned her already turning stomach.

The haze was overtaking every thought that tried to pass through her mind. There was an emergency pack in the bathroom was the thought she kept repeating. Her phone was in the bedroom. She looked at the blood that covered the floor and the body that was far too still at her feet.

She needed to focus but as she took a step away, the apartment tilted around her as bile rose from deep within her throat. Belle found herself grasping at the wall to try and stabilize herself. Knees were growing weak as the floor beneath her continued to rock.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The heavy fall of a fist against the door rattled through the air – she felt it reverberate through her pulsing skull. Silence echoed through the room until the knocks erupted once more. They were heavy and getting progressively more frantic each time. As if something was dragging her from the mess before her and towards the door, Belle’s sock clad feet took the steps slowly.

The knocks continued to shake the whole of the apartment. Her hand grasped the knob, and despite the sense of preservation grown inside her, she opened the door. Hunted prey looked at the predator who stalked her nightmares.

The world settled as the man stepped into the apartment. Belle looked into the clean living room, fog pulling her mind from the memory of a distressed scene, to the breathing predator who threatened to bring violence into her safe haven.

Her hand ran over her torso, like her finger’s were looking for something that she needed to remember. The taste of iron and warmth dripping down her body faded. She felt a shiver as Edward turned his gaze upon her.

“There you are.”