Tuesday, November 24, 2009

MPS-Part 12 The Fight Is On

I slowly backed away from him, my mind reeling, all the while trying to devise an escape route. Fear wrapped its long, cold fingers around my spine. My breathing was coming in short gasps, I was desperately trying not to panic or faint from sheer fright. If I wanted to survive this, I had to keep my wits about me and think straight.

The arguing got louder. Josh kept screaming at me like a crazed maniac, spittle being flung everywhere, his eyes wide and dark. He kept flexing his hands, making fists, waving his arms towards my head. He was enjoying watching me cower in fear and flinch every time he breathed. I kept backing away, but not quickly enough.

His arm shot out and he grabbed me. He wrapped his huge hand around my small neck. My mind went through numerous scenarios in the span of what seemed like minutes, although it could not have been more than a few seconds. I need to get out of his death grib on my throat. What if I ran for the back door...no, the deadbolt is locked and can only be opened with a key. What if I jumped through the front living room window...no, not enough clearance with the tv stand in the way. Maybe I could run for the front door, throw the deadbolt that isn't a keylock, open the screen door and run like hell.

I tried to scream and nothing came out. He had a steel-trap grip on my neck. He loosened his grip for a brief moment and I took advantage of the opportunity to scream bloody murder at the top of my lungs, twist out of his grasp while simultaneously lunging for the front door. I quickly threw the deadbolt, was opening the steel front door and still screaming for all I was worth. I was praying that I'd make it out the door in one piece, that someone would hear my tortured screams and finally call the police to help me.

Noooooo, he caught me! I was too damn slow! His arm flashed by my head and slammed the door shut, shaving the skin off the side of my right hand that was braced on the doorframe, almost catching my hand in the door. Oh shit, I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead...he caught me! I kept screaming, crying, I was hysterical. I was begging my body to not panic. I was ready to try to jump through the living room window and land ten feet down in the shrubs. I was desperate beyond belief. I had to get away from him NOW!

Josh backed me up against the door, blocking any escape by throwing his big, stocky body in front of me. I couldn't move. It was if my feet were nailed to the floor and my legs had turned to stone. I was petrified, crying and begging him to not hurt me anymore. He was pissed off and about ready to explode because I dared to try and escape his wrath. He wanted to show me that I could not fight with him, yell at him, get in his face and win. I was supposed to be subservient to him and he would teach me once and for all.

He grabbed me by my throat, picked me up off the ground and drug me around the living room. My feet were dangling in the air and I was fighting for my life. He bounced me off the sofa, the coffee table, threw me across the room as I started to lose consciousness...he followed me and snatched me back up by my hair and started strangling me. I was struggling for air, I couldn't breathe, couldn't move my body. My blood was pounding so hard in my head that it hurt. My face was hot, my neck was in pain, everything in my body got white fire-hot. He had a death grip on my throat and I thought he was going to snap my neck, kill me and then go after my poor defenseless animals like he'd always threatened. My last conscious thought was of my animals' safety and who would call my Mom...

To be continued...

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