Broken

She lay there in the cast iron bath as the water turned red and cold; surrounded by the candlelit darkness of the night, her bitter despair gnawed away at her very soul, piece by piece, slowly until it consumed her.

Time slowly passed as her soul evaporated into nothingness. All that was left was an empty shell of a person, she was there but she was not living; not like before. Never like before.

"This was the worst so far. He had never been so bad." She whispered through cut lips and bruised face.

He had punched her in the face and threw her down the stairs because she had forgotten to changed the bedding. After she regained consciousness she crawled up the stairs and changed the bedding before she ran a bath to wash away the blood and shame.

"Come to bed, don't make me sleep alone." He called from the other side of the door.

She didn't reply.

She took a deep breath and slid under the water.

As she stared at the flame of the candle from under the water her mind cast back to her 24th birthday, the chocolate cake with the 24 candles atop it. Her then boyfriend down on one knee proposing to her with a white gold and diamond ring in the kitchen where she had suffered so much hurt since then.

That ring still on her finger now on top of her wedding band.

That was the night that Evie was conceived and that was the night her life changed forever.

They had a very short engagement before eloping to get married before she started to show. They toldl people that she was a wedding night baby. Seven months after they wed Evie was born.

Their blonde hair, blue eyed bouncing bundle of joy; or so she thought.

That was when he changed.

He started to become jealous of the baby. He would lash out at her because she was spending too much time with Evie, by that he meant not enough time pandering to him and his needs.

He began demanding sex and if she said no he would make her, force her and use her until he was finished.

At first it was normal sex, a quick fuck just to get release. The more time went on the more he required to reach release.

*Handcuffs, blindfolds and filming the ordeal.

*Pvc outfits and dirty talk.

*Drugging her and beating her.

*Strangling her.

All of the above was expected and demanded from her whenever he commanded, no matter what she was doing. If she was feeding Evie she had to stop and go to the bedroom or he would hurt her and Evie.

He never wanted a child. It was a mistake which he repeatedly told her on a daily basis but she did not care because she had Evie, a husband and he loved her in his own way.

Evie was almost a year old when she went back to work, employing a nanny to take care of Evie at their home. Everything was working out well with Nina, she was good with Evie and she would tidy the house for them coming home from work.

One day she came home early, Nina was nowhere to be found. She made her way up stairs; noises from her bedroom raised her suspicions. She crept slowly opening the door to reveal Nina and her husband fucking in their bed. She slammed the door closed rattling the chandelier in the hallway.

She ran to check on Evie who had not cried when she slammed the door closed. She opened the bedroom door to find Evie. Her lifeless body so still and blue still clutching her teddy bear.

Tears rolled down her face into the cold water as she remembered her beautiful baby daughter. It was the first anniversary of Evie's death and he had not even remembered or shown any feelings at all.

He opened the door to see her laying in the cold murky water, her eyes fixed on him. He reached into the water scooping her up.

He dried her off and pulled a nightdress over her head. He lifted her into bed and covered her with the blankets. He climbed into bed next to her and put his arm across her pulled her closer. He wanted sex.

She pulled away from him and moved to the edge of the bed.

As they lay in bed together he sighed. He knows he did wrong. He knew she would not forgive him but he was going to make her try.

"She just needs to understand it from my point of view." He thought to himself.

"Hanna... talk to me." He turned to face her back.

"What do you want me to say?" she sighed annoyed, her back still to him.

"Anything. Just talk to me. Don't bottle everything up. Vent to me. Shout at me. Hit me. Do something!" he started to raise his voice.

"You killed our daughter. You shagged the nanny and killed our daughter! What do you want me to say! You disgust me! You make my skin crawl! You just don't drink enough to tell me you love me." She turned away from him.

He lay next her flabbergasted. He was never expecting her to say that and say it so bluntly. She had never spoken back to him before.

The next morning he woke and she was already gone.

Her clothes, personal belongings and car were all gone.

A note.

"Without a soul my spirit's sleeping somewhere cold."

With that she was gone.

She would no longer put up with the empty, loveless life she once cherished with him. She needed to be wanted, to be loved, to be cherished.

No longer a doormat for him to dump on.

She was free from his oppression, his abuse, his 'so called love'.

It took the death of their child to tip her into despair and having nothing left to lose to run from him and his abusive, egotistical, manipulative persona that only she knew behind closed doors.