I can’t take this much longer. How can she continue to ignore me? My words were perfect. My feelings were sincere. My happiness was pure. How could I just be ignored? I hope she’s happy. I hope as she lies there in bed she can’t stop remembering the happiness and the sex. Then I pray she remembers the pain and that it haunts her when she closes her eyes. The way she tore into me with the words she spoke and the way she left me with my thoughts and shut the door. I am done being silent now. I will not be shut in and I will not be good.

Tonight she will cry as I feel her flesh against my fingertips. I will watch as the tears roll down her cheek as she tries to fight the ties that bind her to the hell I have made for her. Let’s see her pretend I’m not here now. She can just close her eyes and pretend the blood that trickles down her thigh is not her own. That the sensations she feels are not the last pricks of life escaping her perfect, soft skin. However, even in her imagination she can’t overcome the words which violate her ears over and over again. I cannot let her be free. I will not let her escape the box she unjustly trapped me inside of.

As she lies there, defiled, with the fluids for her body spread across her bed, her walls, herself, I drop to my knees in pain. I was sure that I would be free if I could only rid myself of the one who trapped me here. I want to be free. I need to be free, free from these pains, these thoughts, and these agonizing memories. Here though, with my captor before me I find no solace. There will be no escape. My body seizes up as I realize the only escape. My face collapses upon her chest and the last drops of life drip from my chest and from my eyes. This prison of pain was not of her design, it was my own. I would never be free of the cell until the warden was no more. As I feel the last of my essence fall to the floor, I feel the wall crumble around me. I have found my salvation.