Chapter 8

IRENA POV

The rush of blood sears my veins.

My throat tightens, and I swallow past the ache lodged at the base of my throat, trying to control my breathing. My rapid heartbeats thumped hard against my chest.

Will this be my life till the day I die?

Saint torturing me to the point where I can't even take it even more.

When I reach the bathroom I slam the door shut, rush over to the toilet, kneel pull back my hair, unloading the contents of my stomach into the toilet as the tears quietly roll down my cheeks.

Once I'm done I close the toilet seat, resting my head on my forearm as I finally welcome the overwhelming tears.

Events from the past play out in my head without warning.

7th June 2013

It's his birthday today.

Standing in the kitchen being the well-mannered wife I am I've decided to bake a cake for Vicktor.

Sure we've argued a lot but it's almost our one year anniversary in a few weeks and it's his birthday so if we are going to make this marriage work why not start over with a cake and start to get alone instead of fighting like cats and dogs 24/7.

As I sprinkle some black edible glitter onto the cake coated with white butter cream and decorated red roses with the number 30 imprinted on top of it.

The front door opens and shuts followed by heavy footsteps heading towards the kitchen.

His home early! He shouldn't be back in an hour.

Dammit.

I quickly place everything in order and make sure that the kitchen looks presentable. Vicktor hates it when he finds the kitchen messy and I don't want to start of his birthday evening on a bad start. I wiped the counter and tossed the dirty cloth into the sink reminding myself that I will wash it later followed by tossing the empty containers in the trash and packing the unused utensils back into the cabinet.

I slip my hand under the cake and lift it off the counter. I have to hide it from him. He can't see it not yet.

On my way to the fridge that's across the room, someone appears in-front of me and I bump into them. The cake squashed as it's press against their expensive fabric.

Oh no-

Lifting up my gaze , a shiver runs down my spine when I meet his icy cold gaze. His jaw clenched as anger consumes him like the speed of light. "I-I'm s-so sorry Vicktor." I managed to say, hearing my heartbeat in my ears. "You fucking idiot. Don't you have eyes!" He yells and I'm shrieking back with fear. "Do you have any idea how much this suit fucking costs!?" His voice booming within the walls. I stay silent, fidgeting with the strings of my floral dress. I managed to avoid eye contact. Not wanting to look him straight in the eye. Vicktor pushes me out the way, my body slamming against the oven, the sharp handle sinking into the base of my back causing me to whine in pain. I try to fight back the tears but my body goes against me as my sight blurs.

God, don't cry. Not now it will only upset him more Irena. I thought to myself.

I watched as Vicktor takes of his suit jacket and tosses it onto the kitchen island. He shoots me a glare and I quickly wipe my tears away.

"Are you crying?" He snickered. I shake my head bending down as I picked up the pieces of ruined cake and placed them on the tray. Vicktors shoes come to view as he grabbed my face forcing me to face up. "You ruin my suit and you are fucking crying!"

"It was not my intention, I-I just wanted to do something nice for your birthday." I explained the tears once again pouring out of my eyes like a running river. "My day was already fucked up and I come home to a brat called my wife." He hissed.

Vicktor shakes his head as he laughs dryly. "I'll give you something to cry about." He uttered before snatching me by the hair. My eyes grow wide as he drags me out of the kitchen by my hair like a rag. I try to pry free from his grasp but he tugs me hard as a warning to keep still and follow him.

"Vicktor-Vicktor plea-" I plead , my voice trembling with the anticipation of fear. "Shut the fuck up!" He barked throwing me onto the couch.

Quickly as possible I scooted away from him but he snatched my ankle pulling me towards him.

"No!" I yell trying to break free from his grasp. Meeting his cold gaze, my eyes grow wide. Shiver tuning down my spine as the hairs on the nape of neck rose like spikes.

A sound of fabric tearing screeches through my eyes, I lowered my gaze, my heart dropping as I witnessed my torn dress, my chest fully exposed.

Oh, no no no no- pleaseee no

Staring up at Vicktor as he hovers over me, he licks his lip. His eyes darkening like a predator stalking his prey.

"You wanted to do something nice for my birthday right..." he trailed off slowly, leaning close as he inhales deeply. My lips quivered as the tears silently caressed down my face. "Be a good little wifey, keep quite and be still." He purred disgustingly.

The sound of a zipper caused me to freeze.

I did not know what to do.

Is this really happening?

"Keep quite and be still." His haunting voice is the only thing that is playing in my mind repeatedly like a haunting radio.

I shut my eyes tight, preparing myself for what is to happen next.

Present

I remembered the first time I was violated by a man like it was yesterday.

A vivid memory haunting me.

I was only 19 years old. Young, not knowing the dangers of the world. Not knowing the danger of being a clueless girl living in a man's world.

He a part of me.

Which means I'm not a whole person anymore. I don't think I'll ever be. Parts of me died that day in the house I was supposed to raise a happy family and I only visit it in my nightmares.

Laying on the ground, as I stared up the ceiling, tears rolling down my face.

I thought I've found my peace when I killed him, revenge for all the pain and suffering his put me through.

Now, people would have told me to speak up and fight but it's not as easy as it seems. The first time it happened I ran to my uncles cried to them but they silenced me by looking the other direction and believing a lying, alcoholic man instead of fragile, weak girl.

A girl who put their trust in them. Saw them as her only family.

I was angry but since I was raised by men who picture how a woman should act biased on their own delusional fantasies.

I bite down on the anger and pain. Allowing it to drink me up. Poison me.

I am a woman now but God I would like to let go of that anger and pain. I would like to be furious and destructive. Maybe I am just a woman, but for once I would like them not to turn the other head and roll their eyes in judgement and say. "What's her problem?" But I was raised a woman by a man and therefore too afraid to even try going insane.

To explode.

Letting loose of this terrible scream I've kept inside of my being for years. To break everything and being excused by my actions. "Well, you know how men are. It's normal for their destructive tendencies." That's how it is with society today.

They talk about equality but let's face the truth. Woman and Man will never be equal. Not matter how much we scream, fight, shout, cry, beg...

We will always be ignored.

After all, I am a woman living in a man's world.