Sis Strider

Your vision is blurry as your bloodshot eyes regard the end of the alleyway. Her hand is heavy on your shoulder while her free hand presses the rim of a Whiskey bottle to her lips. Goosebumps have spread all over your skin as the temperature feels absurdly low to your intoxicated mind and body. You don't even know what time it is exactly, though judging by how blinding the light of the moon feels to your gaze, it is definitely past midnight. Sis hasn't been...as mean as every other day. Her fingers have been tracing your figure leisurely and somewhat gently so far. That gives you hope, hope that perhaps she's trying to be a better girlfriend despite her protruding flaws.

"You're cute when you're this quiet, you know." She drawls with a gravelly lilt. "Truly makes me forget all about your earlier complaints. Maybe if you were less of a pussy, I wouldn't constantly beat the shit out of you." The final phrase makes you grimace. You've lost count of how many bruises she's stained your body with since you began to date. Most of them surely haven't healed yet, therefore you have to hide them under fabric and foundation. You believe if you waltzed around with those dark spots on full view, you'd cause people to worry about you. Sis has told you countless of times if you actually go through with that plan, she'll have you dead before your mind can even fully process her swift movements.

You've been taught since a young age physical aggression in relationships is a sign of abuse, yet nobody has ever warned you of how difficult it is to scream for help, let alone make it out alive. All you can do is bask in the occasional tender moments that occur between you and Sis and hope she one day leaves you alone.

Since you still live with your parents, you are incredibly scared of returning home with evident dark circles and alcohol swirling in your veins. They would send you to a rehab centre in the best of hypothesises and kick you out of their house in the worst. But Sis doesn't care about that, never has. You were the one to fall in love with her, so now you have to endure whatever she throws your way. "Come on, let's get you home." She smirks.

The walk to your place is challenging to you as you stumble over your own feet constantly. Miraculously, you manage to reach the porch and turn the knob to enter. The lights are all gone, great. Your arm entwines with your girlfriend's as she's the single person you can lean on, not because you actually trust her. "Are you a kid or what? Watch your fucking steps, weirdo." Her tone is louder now. You're emotionally vulnerable and that insult lands like a slap. You whimper as you enter your messy bedroom and turn on the dim light with difficulty. The tears running down your face seem to really excite Sis' face...

"Shit. I wonder if you can cry like that even under me..." She rasps. Her larger hands push you onto your mattress before muffling your laments. "If you keep making so much noise, I'll kill you. Now, be quiet and strip."