“For proof that he loved me as much as he had always said, I needed only to look at my goddamn chest. In a fit of anger I yanked at my shirt and abruptly reached the three deeply red, immensely tender lines above my left breast, the lines that meant ours was a true love, a passionate love, that I belonged to him. I was forced to rip the top over my head in order to protect it from the rapidly rising contents of my overturned stomach. I remember thinking that it was the first time I had thrown up in a very long while without the aide of a toothbrush or my finger, and not knowing how to feel about that. Lucky, I decided, was how I should feel. After all, I had enjoyed my coffee black this morning, sans artificial sugar, meaning that the taste on the way up didn’t mock me with its standard sweetness. Instead bitter notes married gastric acid and encouraged me to think long and hard about the extensive erosion of both my esophagus and my existence. The dry heaves hit me faster than they normally would have, as I hadn’t consumed anything in days outside of caffeine and bullshit, and quickly interrupted my train of thought.”

I’m writing a short story about intimate partner violence for a scholarship through the Women’s and Gender Studies Program at my university. This is a small portion of it. What do you think?

  1. poptartsmakemedance reblogged this from wordslikeair
  2. wordslikeair reblogged this from tierneylee
  3. elsiesmile answered: oh wow, i would love to read when you have completed it!
  4. monologuer answered: yes. yes. just… yes.
  5. prisonertoinstincts answered: I love it!
  6. movelikeajellyfish said: amazing job!
  7. lorenajimenez answered: I love the use of descriptive words and how detailed it all is! Great job!
  8. pissedoffington answered: ooooh i like this. “the extensive erosion of both my esophagus and my existence” that’s great. i’d like to read it all!
  9. tierneylee posted this