"Almost Doesn't Count"
He beat me for the wrong things that he had done. I wasn't as strong as he wanted me to be, that's why he hated me. I flinched when he rose his hands in the air to slap me down to the floor. He began blurting out offensive hurtful words that cut me like a knife.
In my mind, I said "I am going to die". I cried as i lay hurled in the corner of the closet. I begged and pleaded or him to stop. The last blow to my head left me dizzy. I just laid still as if i was knocked unconscious.He walked away.
The room was filled with silence. "Was this the end of this vicious beating, or would he be back to finish the job?" I slowly got up from the floor and it was soaked from my tears. I walked into my bedroom dazed in shock and amazement. "What the hell just happened?" "What had i done to trigger this outburst of anger and abuse?" I sat on the edge of the bed, my hands trembled, fear took over me. I was crying hysterically, my body ached all over, i moaned quietly.
i was losing my mind as i rocked back and forth trying to convince myself that although the bruises on my body would soon diminish, the one's in my heart wouldn't.
I wanted to tell someone what was going on behind closed doors, but even i was ashamned of the secret i was keeping. I was living a lie. "I wondered if anyone could see the traces of my tears?"
I knew i would be judged and put on trial for the secret i had been hiding. I didn't want to face dissappointments from family and friends. My own secret could cause me to lose it all.
He almost loved me, he almost cared about me, he almost acknowledge my existence, but almost doesn't count.