I crumple forward against the wall, dazed, blood now streaming down the bridge of my nose, channeled from a gash on my forehead. Your fist smashes into my lower back, ramming my stomach and breasts forward into the fall. I moan, my palms flat against the wall, as crippling pain blooms through my body. I jerk, my head snapping back, as you hit me in the lower back again. Again. Again. each time my back muscles spasm. Each time, deeper agony surges through me.
But my hate for you is stronger. It doesn’t need air, or a body free from pain. It carries me. It will carry me to the end, whatever the end is.
I know your target in my back. I know the rhythm of your gathering and of your punches. I know the next cruel punch is…..now.
I twist sideways and feel your fist just graze my hip. I don’t know if it hits the wall or how hard. I only know you’re next to me, off-balance, wide open. I chop the edge of my hand into your throat. Your hair flies in a wild arc, your head snaps back. I uppercut your breast, my knuckles slashing up into where it rides on your chest wall. I scream as you scream.
”YOU WON’T BEAT ME!!”