This is the rework of a self-published auto-biographical story (2008), rewritten for this blog. Names of characters have been changed.
Content warning: mental and physical abuse, misogyny.
Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in getting up every time we do.
Mandy (part 3)
Continued from… Mandy (part 2)
EXTRA WARNING: DOMESTIC ABUSE! VIOLENCE!
Annie was livid. She wished she could just go to bed. She was uncomfortable with Fred watching her so closely. Even the moments that she enjoyed the feeling of a hardened nipple between her lips or the taste of Mandy’s juices in her mouth, couldn’t take away her feelings of discomfort. Despite her anger, she was relieved to get a break. Quickly she grabbed the four glasses and walked to the bar in the next room.
She was just starting to pour the first glass, when Fred appeared next to her. Smiling he stood right in front of her and lovingly put his hands on her shoulders.
“Are you enjoying the evening, my love?” he asked, his voice friendly.
Annie knew that she couldn’t tell him the truth, so gave him the answer he wanted to hear.
“Oh yes, I’m enjoying it,” she said. She wanted to turn away to continue pouring the drinks, but he held her back.
“I do believe you’re enjoying it quite a lot,” he said, and his voice now was a little less friendly, “as it’s clear you want Mandy all to yourself. A blind man can see that you want Fran and me out of the way. Right, Annie?”
“Just admit it. You’re want us gone. You want everything for yourself. Admit it!”
“No, Fred. It’s not true,” she protested.
“Admit it, Annie. Or do you say I’m a liar?”
Annie was close to tears. She and Fran had frequently changed places. Fred’s blame was unfounded and unfair.
“Annie, my love, just admit it. In there, I clearly saw how Fran battled to find room to caress Mandy’s body in any way. You wanted Mandy all to yourself. Admit it, honey, admit it!”
“No Fred, Fran had plenty of space!”
The more Annie argued, the fiercer Fred became. The more she tried to free herself from Fred’s arms, the firmer he held onto her. She could hardly move her head. He had his one hand entangled in her hair at the back of her head. With that hand, he forced her to look at him. In his other hand, he held the cigarette he was smoking when he entered the room.
“Admit it, Annie.”
“No, it’s not true.”
“Annie, admit it.”
“No, I didn’t do it.”
Fred’s voice changed to a low hissing sound.
Annie’s knees wobbled under her. Her vision was black. Only for a second. Fred’s hand in her hair held her up; kept her standing in front of him.
“Annie, honey, come on now, admit it.”
His voice was worryingly soft.
“I did nothing wr…”
Again, she sagged to the ground.
Again, Fred pulled her up by her hair.
“You wanted her for yourself!”
Pain where he grabbed her by her hair.
The pressure of his hand.
His hand. His voice. His hand. Black. His voice. His hand. His voice. His voice. His voice.
“Admit it, Annie!”
Annie heaved a deep sigh. Something was off. What was happening to her? Why the blackness. She concentrated her eyes on Fred’s face. He was furious. In his eyes, she saw the mad light of intense delight. An all-consuming hatred welled up in Annie. She breathed in and steeled herself against whatever might follow.
“No! Fred! I did nothing wrong! Nothing!”
The painful understanding of what Fred was doing. Fighting against the next blackout. Distress. Tears.
“No, Fred, please, no. Don’t. No! Please, Fred. Please!”
His forehead rammed against Annie’s head. His hand behind her neck held her up, despite her wobbling knees.
“Fred, I am going to faint. Please stop. Please,” she begged.
He didn’t stop. Once more, he rammed his forehead against hers. Annie felt the darkness descending on her. This time she had to keep herself upright. Fred’s hand was gone. She couldn’t see him, but sensed he was still in front of her. She fought against the dark feeling. Vaguely she was aware of her shoulder supporting herself against the bar.
A burning sensation on her chest shocked her back to reality, and she simply watched Fred filling the four glasses. She was too afraid to move. She didn’t want to draw any attention to herself. Nevertheless, Fred was fully aware of her naked presence. On the clock behind the bar, Annie noticed only ten minutes had passed since Fred followed her.
“You’ll bring your own glass, won’t you, my darling?” Fred asked when he walked away with three glasses, not paying her even a glance.
Annie sagged to the ground — a heap of misery.
To be continued… The next day
© Rebel’s Notes