His Butterfly

Chapter 5

⚠️ Warning ⚠️
Violence and SA scene
Read on your own risk!!!

AMINA
I hear the front door opening and closing again.

"Aminaaaa. Where are you, you little whore?" His voice rings in my ear. I'm in the kitchen making dinner for him.

He showed up on the door frame looking at me.
I was nervously playing with my fingers as he looks at me intensely.

From the look of his clothes and from the smell of his breath, it looks like he has been drinking again.

Then he was walking towards me." Where were you doing?" He asks me pissed off.

I was so scared to answer him.

"ANSWER ME!" He yells and I flinch.

"I was making you dinner." I say with a low voice.

"And where is it? Why isn't it ready yet?" He keeps yelling.

'' It is in the microwave. It will be ready in a minute. Okay?" I say to him.

"Where were you today?" He asks.

"I was at the school and when I came back home, I started to clean and make dinner ready. Just a second." I say as I turn around to get the food prepped.

I place the plate of soup in front of him satisfied with my work. I really hope he likes it because I put so much effort on it and it came out pretty good.

But I thought wrong. He got angry because I had put to much potatoes and carrots on it.

Then he hits me. Hard. Hard enough for me to fall face first on the ground.

"You don't know how to do anything right, do you? Everything you do is wrong, isn't it? Ughhh. Now I know why even your own parents don't love you. You are unbearable."
Ouch! That hurted.

Then he got on top of me and started hitting and punching me.

It is not the first time he do this. It isn't the first time he gives me bruises and cuts.

But it wasn't used to be like this. It used to be like a fairytale. Like a dream. We used to be the perfect couple. Now, not anymore. He used to be the perfect boyfriend and now he is an alcoholic and an abuser, just like my father.

These last eight months weren't the same as it used to be. He used to love me. Why did it change?

The only thing I have done to his is love and respect him. Nothing else.

After what felt like an eternity, he eventually got tired and gave up. He gets up from me and goes to the alcohol cabin pulling out a full bottle of whiskey, going to the living room.

Leaving me behind, still on the ground, panting and with blood coming out of my nose and my busted lip.

I let out some tears. Then, I gathered all of the force that was left in my body and got up.