Page 338 of Eternal
I’m in the kitchen. It’s cold and quiet except for the soft hum of the old bulb overhead, casting yellow light that feels too weak to warm anything. The table is spotless. I cleaned it before cooking what we had left. I barely touched my food. My stomach twists again, like it always does. Maybe it’s my body giving up.
Christian sits at the head of the table, his silver cross catching the light. His eyes never leave me. Always watching even when I try not to look back.
His wife eats quietly, as if she doesn’t hear the loud thoughts behind his gaze.
Close your eyes. Breathe. Forget.
“Why didn’t you answer when I called?”
I swallow the lump in my throat, my gaze stuck to my plate. “I was in class... I wasn’t allowed.”
“The phone I bought you. To answer.” His eyes narrow. “Stupid fucking girl.”
“I... I didn’t mean to?—”
FORGET. FORGET. FORGET.
He slams the table. Salt spills onto the floor. His glass follows. Broken. All over the ground at my feet. “Look at me when I’m talking!”
Close your eyes. Breathe. Forget.
The voice inside me is trying to help me: He’s going to explode. Hurt you. Maybe worse.
I want to run. But I’m frozen.
“I’m tired of your lies. You’re nothing but a sinner.”
I try to speak, but his gaze holds me silent.
“You’re possessed. A whore.” His hands grab my cheeks so tight it hurts. “What were you doing at school? Letting boys touch you? That’s why you didn’t answer?”
Close your eyes. Breathe. Forget.
His wife didn’t say a word, just stood up quietly, almost gently, and picked up a few pieces of shattered glass from the floor. She didn't flinch when her fingers brushed a sharp edge. Didn’t look at me. Didn’t say a thing. She went to the couch, sat down, and stared ahead like she was watching something no one else could see.
“Come on,” he barked.
I didn’t move. My fingers were locked around the edge of the table. My breathing was shallow. I couldn’t feel my legs.
“I said. Come. On.”
Still frozen. Still staring at my plate like it held some answer.
Then, the sharp grip of his hand on my arm. He yanked me up so hard my chair screeched against the floor.
“Don’t you fucking ignore me.”
My foot landed on a small piece of glass. It sliced into my heel, and the pain was bright and sudden. I whimpered, but didn’t cry. I never cry. Not in front of him.
Neverin front of them.
Inside me, something else stirred. A voice. One I didn’t name. One I didn’t ask for. But it came anyway, like it always did.
Pick it up. The glass. Shove it in his neck. Do it now.
No. No. Stop. Please.
He’s going to hurt you again. You know that. You could stop it this time.
