Till Death (part 1)

Wind rushing through the opened window.
My mouth still covered by his digits.
I see the airflow rattle the leaves of the flowers  
he got me in the kitchen.
 
“I’mma make you a widow if you don’t quit  
your bitchin’!”
 
Make me a widow?  
Confused by his words, my brain ignores the  
pains and makes me realise how bad it only  
seemed at first.
This is infinitely worse.
 
I act as if rehearsed. Dropped down to my  
knees to reach for the pepperspray in my  
purse just to realise it’s not there like i thought  
it was at first.
 
My head snaps back as the result of him  
pulling my hair as hard as he could without  
care for my health, adding to the insult.
 
I see red before my eyes.  
Not sure if it’s figurative or literal.  
Possibly both.
Probably critical. No surprise.
 
“Get your ass back over here! God you’re a  
disgrace! Look at you! Despicable!”
 
He sighs.
 
“Why did you make me do this?”
 
Wow. Classic right there.  
No vow prepares you for clowns like him.  
No brows were raised when he was down on  
one knee I think.
Maybe no one dared.
Too scared. Or maybe no one cared.
 
My mind starts racing.
Going through multiple outcomes, mowing  
through multiple front lawns while trailing off  
lacking bread crumbs to secure a safe return.
I feel like being frowned upon.
 
So much time I’ve been wasting…
 
He’s losing his patience. He’s pulling me -still  
by my hair- and dragging me down to the  
basement.
I never descended the stairs this quick.
I must’ve hit just a few steps on the way down.
The last five I missed altogether because I was  
graciously met with a final kick and a bow.
 
Before I could even look up I heard the sound  
of a turning lock and knew I had to find a way  
out so I got up.
 
Too quick it seems.
 
I lost consciousness because of the monstrous  
actions that he forced upon me and woke up  
several hours later to be met by deafening  
silence and smells of raw meat.
 
A plate of it in front of me. He expects me to  
eat like the dog that he acts to be.