THE ABUSER
She watched in horror as he sank his teeth deep into his own forearm. When he straightened up, beads of scarlet blood oozed through his skin and trickled down his wrist. He gazed at her expressionlessly.
'Now what do you think?' he said.
What could she think? After all those years of abuse, that he should do that, to himself!
She thought of all those other scars and bite marks; recent as well as old. She had been so careful - so very careful - to bite him where it wouldn't show.
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Do you know, I sometimes worry about you!
ReplyDeleteSo do I. Book into the Bunk Room at Durness. I'll willingly leave you to carry lots of heavy things about in stunning scenery. I'll even buy you a pie and a pint.
DeleteLynne, I sometimes worry about myself. No idea where this came from.
DeleteAdrian, the pie and the pint sound good. Thanks.
DeleteAfter your books Frances I have come to expect the unexpected and you have not disappointed.
ReplyDeleteThank you, GB. I think...?
DeleteLove it - a big story in few words x
ReplyDeleteThanks, Teresa. Odd how these ideas suddenly arrive. This was really rather horrible!
DeleteThat's a very good twist, Frances!
ReplyDeleteNot at all nice, though, is it?
DeleteOne of my male friends has suffered physical abuse from his wife for years. Not anymore.
ReplyDeleteMike, I suspect there's a lot more of it than people think.
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