Any second, he would step through the door, and it was already too late to run. He wasn't always bad when he was drunk, but he called her on his way home; while he was screaming that she never listens, she did everything in her power to let him know that she does, but he didn't want to hear it. It wasn't the first time, so she knew exactly what to expect.
She didn't know what to do... should she defend herself? Would he be easier on her if she took the blows unflinching, or would he rather see the pain he puts her through? There was no time to decide... she could already hear him outside the front door, already yelling at her as he fumbled with the lock. She wanted so much to run, but couldn't find the will to move her feet; she made an easy target.
He had her pinned over a chair, one arm twisted behind her, pressed into her back by his knee... her other arm clutching the cushion, expressing the pain that she dared not let him see on her face or hear in her cries. While his yelling continued, he pulled her head up by her hair, so that her ear would be in a better position to receive his insults, with one leg on the floor, and the other still bracing her arm behind her back... that's when she felt the snap. He was too drunk to notice, and she was unable to tell him; her hand dangled loosely behind her back, hanging from a broken wrist.
And life builds up to moments like these... moments in time, captured. The past didn't flash before her eyes, and there was no thought of the future; she was trapped in that moment, with no other time willing to receive her thoughts.... different rules apply, and they refuse any notion of compromise.
Helpless to speak, helpless to tell him what he was doing, she unwillingly endured... unknowingly sending all of her anguish into the cushion that refused to lift a finger to save her. She needed to learn to listen, she needed to show him that she could, she wanted him to be happy and she wanted it to stop.. but as much as she tried, the pain was tearing her away from his words. His screams blended together, as she struggled to keep them in line, but it was no use... she didn't have the power to please him; for this, she felt guilt.
Moments like these... moments in which the entire experience seems to strangle the senses, pressing from every side and confining you in. She was powerless to escape, and powerless to make sense of any of it... her body the first victim, then her emotions, then her mind... and the longer it continues, the harder it presses, until it finds every part of you to confine.
When the lecture was done, she was no longer to be seen... not in that moment. A creature lay there wounded, thoughtless, docile. Seeing what he had done, he was overwhelmed with guilt, trying to bring her back, trying to pull her from that moment. After some coaxing, she returned... she wasn't conscious of the fact that she did so to please him. He told her it would never happen again, and for some reason, she believed him... again.