karenmcd
07-20-2011, 08:08 AM
Writing exercise tues:
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Sad. I suppose this is it, flat, tired, don't want to talk, my brain feels like its a weighted stone holding down some notes on why I'm wrong.
He gets up, I watch him, he says nothing. Picking up his clothes and dressing himself he stands looking at me, I'm looking back at him, I cant read his eyes, his silence.
I smile, a small smile to let him know its ok. He looks at me, I don't know if its anger, disgust, sadness or worry. Is he worried ill tell someone? He finishes getting dressed, 'don't spend all day in that bed', he says, 'do something'. He closes the door behind him, makes his way downstairs and enters the kitchen. There are already other people in the kitchen, I'm thirsty but I know I cant go downstairs until everyone is gone.
Last night he said goodnight and went upstairs, I didn't respond to him at all. When he came back down the stairs he got really close to me, told me how childish and selfish i was for not responding to him, how if i had a problem with him i should say it. I followed him up the stairs to apologise, he was right, I was being childish.
I was wearing the dress my mother wore when she was pregnant with me, i don't know how i ended up with that dress, the same way i ended up with her nightgown I suppose, but I cant remember how. I stood in his doorway. Sorry, I said. He didn't turn around, he got undressed and into bed and I stood there.
'I'm tired', he said, 'are you coming to bed'. I got in, curled up beside him. Facing away, promising myself that if he touched me i would say something. I didn't. He saw my most recent scars and scolded me for scratching myself in my sleep.
In the morning i could never tell what he was feeling.
I hear everyone leaving downstairs, I know he is gone and I'm alone in the house. I change into my clothes and leave the house, arriving late for my first lecture.
I know he is killing me, but I don't know how to stop it. How do you tell people, make them understand. I stand in my class, I know my pain killers are kicking in. I know nobody wants this drama today. After my lecture I sit under a tree, smoke a cigarette and promise myself that tonight when i get home I'll go straight to sleep.
I get home, everyone is there, we all eat toast and drink tea and laugh. I get up, follow him down the hall, up the stairs and into his room. He scolds me for the new cuts, he is so much bigger than I am and enjoys wrapping his hands around my throat, or holding both of my wrists above my head with one hand.
In the morning, i watch him getting out of bed. He watches me as he gets dressed, I don't know what he is thinking, I smile, a small smile so he knows its ok, I wont tell anyone.
_______________________
Sad. I suppose this is it, flat, tired, don't want to talk, my brain feels like its a weighted stone holding down some notes on why I'm wrong.
He gets up, I watch him, he says nothing. Picking up his clothes and dressing himself he stands looking at me, I'm looking back at him, I cant read his eyes, his silence.
I smile, a small smile to let him know its ok. He looks at me, I don't know if its anger, disgust, sadness or worry. Is he worried ill tell someone? He finishes getting dressed, 'don't spend all day in that bed', he says, 'do something'. He closes the door behind him, makes his way downstairs and enters the kitchen. There are already other people in the kitchen, I'm thirsty but I know I cant go downstairs until everyone is gone.
Last night he said goodnight and went upstairs, I didn't respond to him at all. When he came back down the stairs he got really close to me, told me how childish and selfish i was for not responding to him, how if i had a problem with him i should say it. I followed him up the stairs to apologise, he was right, I was being childish.
I was wearing the dress my mother wore when she was pregnant with me, i don't know how i ended up with that dress, the same way i ended up with her nightgown I suppose, but I cant remember how. I stood in his doorway. Sorry, I said. He didn't turn around, he got undressed and into bed and I stood there.
'I'm tired', he said, 'are you coming to bed'. I got in, curled up beside him. Facing away, promising myself that if he touched me i would say something. I didn't. He saw my most recent scars and scolded me for scratching myself in my sleep.
In the morning i could never tell what he was feeling.
I hear everyone leaving downstairs, I know he is gone and I'm alone in the house. I change into my clothes and leave the house, arriving late for my first lecture.
I know he is killing me, but I don't know how to stop it. How do you tell people, make them understand. I stand in my class, I know my pain killers are kicking in. I know nobody wants this drama today. After my lecture I sit under a tree, smoke a cigarette and promise myself that tonight when i get home I'll go straight to sleep.
I get home, everyone is there, we all eat toast and drink tea and laugh. I get up, follow him down the hall, up the stairs and into his room. He scolds me for the new cuts, he is so much bigger than I am and enjoys wrapping his hands around my throat, or holding both of my wrists above my head with one hand.
In the morning, i watch him getting out of bed. He watches me as he gets dressed, I don't know what he is thinking, I smile, a small smile so he knows its ok, I wont tell anyone.