Broken.

Bleeding.

Ravished.

It wasn’t how he wanted her. It wasn’t what he pictured. In his thoughts, in his mind she was smiling, golden, her sunshine accompanying his darkness. She was the light that would lift him upward, she was his redemption.

Now she was broken. Glassy eyed, staring at the wall, the bath robe lying on the floor. Mocking him, mocking her, taunting them with the knowledge of how badly things turned out.

Taunting him, teasing him, her voice filled his mind. ‘Monster’ she had said.

Memories overwhelmed him, disgusted him. Beauty and the beast – she was teasing, taunting all the time. She said no and slammed him against the crypt. She told him he disgusted her, he was a monster, all while she rode him to oblivion.

He disgusted her, yet she craved him.

Now he was the monster that she always said, she always knew.

Broken, bleeding, ravished.

Lying there on the floor.

He cried, he wailed, he sobbed. He begged her to react, to say something, to do something, even staking him would be a blessing.

She stared at the spot on the wall.

Broken, Bleeding, Ravished.

He waited until everyone left. Until the house was quiet, the world asleep. He placed her in a stolen jeep. Some clothes, the stuffed pig. He left no note.

Now he watched her, day after day. Combing her hair, kissing her cheek, singing lullabies to keep the other monsters away.

She stared at the wall.

Broken

Broken, but his.