EVA
“Shit!”
His eyes were filled with rage, it was so evident that it felt material.
Why did I have to wait so long before getting dressed? Why did I have to read Alex’s nasty texts? I had stopped replying to them since the day of the attack, so why?
If I could have just put the sweater on, if only I hadn’t got careless, I wouldn’t be now naked in front of David. I wouldn’t be clutching the discarded t-shirt over my breasts to hide the bruises.
My heart was racing so fast, I could feel it beating through the fabric. Time was suspended, all I could see were David’s eyes; his eyes were judging me, seeing me for the worthless girl I really was. All I could think was how I wanted to die that instant. It would have been so simple.
Then David turned around and stormed out. Watching him leave made it all real again but an unexpected wave of nausea prevented me from going after him.
I grabbed onto the bed frame and called after him.
“David!”
He couldn’t have heard me, he had already slammed the front door shut on his way out. I clenched my teeth, forcing myself to fight against the nausea, and wrapped myself in the first thing I saw, a bathrobe. In less than a minute I was running out onto the patio, looking for David.
It had gotten colder, almost freezing. I wasn’t dressed for the occasion, but I didn’t care. Between the nausea and the dizziness, the cold seemed like a good thing to endure.
I ran aimlessly, too scared to call out for David. What if Mum heard? What would she think if she found me half naked, running through the woods at night?
Before I knew it, I was lost. My feet were frozen, but it felt like it was happening to someone else. The dizziness was starting to get stronger. I saw a house, but didn’t recognize it. Where was I? I must’ve walked for miles, because there were no cabins near ours.
Wide eyed and panting, I tried to find my way back. Although I was sure I had stopped moving, everything else was spinning. How do I stop moving?
“David? David!” I called out. It was like those dreams where I couldn’t scream. “How do I stop moving? Why is everything… I’m sorry.”
Before collapsing, I saw a shadow getting closer, then there was darkness.
When I came to, I was in my bed. The lights were out, only the moonlight shining through the window.
For a second, I breathed easily. All was just a dream, thank God.
“How are you feeling?”
Those four words turned my core into ice. Next thing I knew, I was bent over the edge of the bed, puking into a bucket. Holding the bucket was Dave. I puked again, then darkness came back over me, like a protective cloak.
It was morning when I woke up. I could’ve been fooled by the chirping of the birds and the quiet surrounding me, but the splitting headache pressing on my temples reminded me of last night’s horrific incident.
“Oh, no,” I made the mistake of saying. Besides my voice sounding like sandpaper must’ve felt, the noise hit my ears like a jackhammer.
Despite every little sound hurting my brain, I shuffled out of the sheets and rose to a sitting position. When I dangled my feet over the edge of the bed, another dizzy spell took a hold of me. I feared I might faint again and kept mumbling to myself encouragements.
“You shouldn’t be standing just yet,” David said. I hadn’t heard the door open.
When I didn’t reply, he came and stood in front of me, blocking the sun. I could feel his eyes burning holes on the back of my head, as I looked down. He hated me.
“How do you feel?” His voice was harsh, scolding me for my mistakes.
“I’m fine. I feel better. I’m sorry for scaring you…”
“You’re not fine. I asked how you were feeling. Symptoms, not fiction.”
With every word, he ripped something inside me. Silent tears rolled down my cheeks. When the first drooped on my lap, I held my breath. He’d hate me even more if he saw me crying.
“Look, you have a concussion, that’s why you were unconscious. It must’ve happened before you came here. Are you crying?”
He lifted my face to him. I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to bear the despising look he must’ve had in his eyes.
“Why are you crying? You don’t need the pressure, you’ll just faint again.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I… Please, don’t hate me,” I begged.
“Hate you? I hate the fucking bastard that did this to you!”
“What? No… Nobody did this to me. It’s my fault.”
“Sure. You walked into a door?”
“No. Why would you say that?”
He shook his head. “Isn’t that what you abused women say?”
“I am not an abused woman.”
“Then why do you have bruises all over your body? No, that’s not correct. You have bruises exactly where no one could see them. The blow to your stomach was so bad, it’s a miracle you weren’t bleeding internally. And what about your head? You were unconscious for more than six hours. You needed CPR!”
“I… don’t understand.”
“You stopped breathing when you collapsed last night. I saw you walking in circles around the cabin. If I didn’t actually see you going down, you would’ve frozen to death.”
“Around the cabin?”
“Yeah. Hard to believe, when you were so disoriented, right? It must’ve felt like you were walking for miles.”
I looked down again, ashamed. I had made a fool of myself yet again.
“I’m sorry.”
“What are you so sorry for?”
“You don't know me. I’m a bad person.” Why was he acting like he didn’t understand. It was plain as day. “It was my fault.”
“What? Getting beaten up?”
“Everything,” I whispered.
“It’s never your fault. All victims of abuse say that, but it’s not true.”
“I am not a victim!”
I could feel the anger clenching my insides. Why was he insisting?
“Alex never abused me! I am a bad person, it was all deserved and fair. You don’t understand.”
“You don’t understand. The animal is beating you like a piece of meat and you deserve it?”
“Stop! I am not a victim. I am fine.”
“You’re not. Not physically, you’re injured. You need to go to the hospital!”
“No, I don’t. And you can’t make me go.”
“Actually, I can. The only thing stopping me from hauling your ass into the city is that I want to talk to you first. They automatically report abuse, but I wanted you to understand what is happening. I don’t want you to get traumatized even more.”
“I am not…”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re fine. Forget it. The last thing you are now is fine.”
“You’re wrong.”
He started pacing, frustrated. “So, what? Now you’re going back to him? Kiss and make up, get ready for another beating? He can kill you!”
“Shut up! I broke up with him.”
“Then why has he called you a thousand times in one night?”
“You looked through my phone?”
I couldn’t believe my ears. First, he accused me of being something I wasn’t, and now he tells me he had violated my privacy?
“I haven’t, I am not a control freak who beats defenseless women down. But I watched over you all night. And there he was, calling every second. I had to turn the stupid phone off, you were afraid of his ringtone even when you were unconscious.”
“You turned the phone off?” My anger was instantly replaced by fear. He will kill me now!
“Where’s my phone?”
“Wow. So much for breaking up, eh?”
I looked into his eyes intending to show him how angry I was, but felt his painful disappointment instead. I opened my mouth to say something, but couldn’t think of anything that would make things right.
“Are you kids up?” Mum called from the hallway.
David must’ve seen how panicked I was. “Don’t worry, I didn’t tell her.”
“Thank you.”
“Eva?”
“We’ll be right there!” he shouted. My mother kept talking, in her cheerful voice. It hurt me to know I was such a disappointment to her.
My gratefulness to David increased threefold when he went to the door and convinced her to leave us alone.
“Thank you,” I said again.
“Look” he started, sitting next to me. “You are hurt, despite what you think. You can’t possibly feel fine, I can see your body is injured. Do you feel that pain?”
I nodded, tears already welling up in my eyes.
“OK. That pain, those bruises, came from him.”
I heard the pause in his voice. He couldn’t bear to say Alex’s name. At the same time, the veins on his hands pulsated, as he clenched a fist.
“What you think, what he made you think, is irrelevant, Eva. The pain, the injuries, they are real. Nobody can deny them. You can’t protect him like this.”
David was talking evenly, struggling to control his anger. I could feel the tension and I felt guilty for putting him through this.
“I am not protecting him. I told you, we are broken up.”
“Did you tell him that?”
I closed my eyes, giving up on fighting the tears. What was the point? He had seen me in my lowest moments.
“You need to tell him. Write it in a text, then tell him straight when he calls again. Say it a thousand times, if necessary. Make it real, not just something that has only happened in your head. Face him for the coward he is.”
“We’re broken up,” I repeated, more to convince myself than David.
“Yes. Tell it to him. He won’t hurt you again, I can make that promise.”
I shook my head slowly.
“Please,” he pleaded through gritted teeth. He was trying hard not to take his frustration on me and I couldn’t understand why. Wasn’t I to blame for everything?
“OK,” I gave in halfheartedly. It seemed to satisfy him enough. I held my breath until he left my room.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered after I heard the door closing.