She stumbled through the door. The wounds on her arms bleeding tirelessly. Her vision, tinged with gray, began to fail her. If only it were my last.

                The thought escaped her mind, clouded her head. She fell to her knees in front of the sofa. God give me strength. She begged. Tiny gasps of air rattled her lungs and she curled into herself, praying for the end.

                It was morning. The light streamed through the house showering the bare walls with cover. She glanced down. The wounds had clotted over the night. A small pool of blood was spilled around her.

                If only it had been my last. She thought. Digging deep within herself she found the strength to rise, and shuffled through the house.

                Relief filled her veins as the warm water cleansed her wounds. She scrubbed at the marks covering her neck and arms glad to fill something.

                Last night was the last time. She thought. I no longer will go on like this. A sporadic burst of hope called to her, and she opened her heart to the thought.

                Slowly, she left her house and began the short walk to his.

                Through God. For God. By God. I was made through God’s image. For God’s purpose. And by God’s hands.  She repeated to herself, almost as though it were a chant. Her footsteps clapped loudly against the hot pavement. This is it.

                He called to her, and she glanced up. His arms hung loosely at his sides and an easy smile flittered across his face.

                He asked how her night was, and tried to embrace her. She pulled away repeating her chant again before regaining the courage to speak.

                “No more.” She whispered. His facial features hardened and his gaze swept her face. Anger began to build up behind his eyes until it reached a point of pure rage. He didn’t speak, because he knew actions are louder than words.

                He made a move for her and clenched his teeth together when she didn’t flinch.

                “Just go.” He said waving her off. She smiled inwardly at the dismissal. In a way it was as though he were setting her free from her burden.

                It was two nights later when he returned. She heard a knock at her door, and went to answer it.

               A question of greeting formed in her throat, but never made it past her lips. He stood there. A bouquet of roses were clenched tightly in his hands, and an unshaven face was pulled grimly down into a frown.

              “Please.” He asked for forgiveness. He asked for a second chance, but she turned him away.  

             After closing the door she leaned heavily against the frame steading her breath. The rustle of the flowers caught her attention, and she pressed her ear to the door.

            Once his retreating footsteps were out of hearing range she breathed a sigh of relief and glanced out her window. He had left the roses on the porch, waiting.

             She let them wilt and die. Each day he returned with another bouquet. Another flower. Another apology, but she never accepted. She didn’t want to fall into the same pit that had once consumed her.

            She wore a short sleeve shirt everyday as a reminder of what had happened. Though she ached for his sweet words and kind gestures, she knew it was only a matter of time before the beast inside of him was released. She just knew it.

           A week flew by and the healing had begun. He stopped by more often. Sometimes just to sit and read, others to issue an apology.

          This afternoon he turned up as usual. Gloomy clouds had begun to roll in earlier that day, and she was reminded of the time they’d shared a mocha and danced in the rain. He’d loved her then. God don’t let my resolve weaken. She prayed as he made his way onto the porch. She curled up on the sofa and eyed the door wearily.

         Thunder began to sound overhead, like trumpets announcing the arrival of a storm. The rains came soon after. The sky would light on fire one minute, it was a blazing white flash of light devouring everything in its way, but it faded in the next. Tiny white spots dancing in her vision as the only bit of evidence of something so powerful.

        “Please!” He pleaded as the storm began to strengthen. She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her hands in her lap trying hard to fight the compassion blossoming in her chest.

        It didn’t work. She couldn’t be cruel and let him sit out in the storm all night. She didn’t have it in her.

        Padding slowly across the room she released the door’s deadbolt and let him in. He looked up in surprise from the huddle he had gathered himself into in a corner.

           “Hurry.” She said, and he nodded numbly making his way inside.

          “I’m sorry.” He repeated, his teeth chattering. She just nodded, led him to the couch and went to grab him a blanket.

           After he was situated on the couch she got up and boiled some water for some cocoa. The chocolate melted in a swirly wisp, and she watched it trying to find the courage to go back out to him. He does not control you. You do. There is nothing to fear, God is here.

          She smiled at the unexpected rhyme, took a deep breath, and headed for the couch.

           “Here you are.” She placed the steaming mug in his hands. He looked much more comfortable now. She waited until he began to drain his cup before starting on her own.

         “Why’d you leave me?” He asks suddenly. The cold intensity in his eyes made her look away.

           “Why’d you hit me?” She dared. He looked cross for a second, but regained his composure and began to drink his cocoa again. She nodded, and poured the rest of her cocoa down the drain.

          “Night.” She mumbled before locking herself in her room. She fell into a fitful sleep after a while. She dreamed of the abuse he’d put her through, and let out a scream of fear before jolting awake.

          He ran into her room, having somehow manipulated the lock, and attempted to comfort her.

         “Just stop. Stay away!” She yelled, pushing him away. He jerked her arm and she looked at him frightened. One look into his eyes and she knew the monster was back.