Hollow Hall

Somewhere in the hollow hall, I smell him. His stink never fails to alert me to his presence. I’m older... a whole year ... since I last vomited, from twonderedlike sweat he dripped into my mouth as he hovered over me. I watched two beads swell from his temples. They plumped, further than any sweet beads I had ever seen, before each succumbed to gravity’s pull. I couldn’t hear the vulgar words he was grunting out, as long as I remained focused on the falling sweat. I wished they were his tears. I wished he would suffer endless nightmares, where demons and monsters of every breed would make him feel the terror, the fear, and the shame he burdens on me.

So far, it was a tie. Both beads were traveling neck and neck, down his cheeks. I gaged. I made no effort to hide my disgust, and I allowed my body to react without remorse. I gaged again, and tasted bile. Suddenly, I was struck with the urge to spit it in his face. I don’t know why I didn’t. Instead, I swallowed it down; and then, I heard the - now too familiar - voice, for the first time.

“ That’s right bitch, eat your vomit. You’re so fucking pathetic! You earned this shit by being so fucking chicken shit! Fight back!!!”

I couldn't. I just laid there frozen, and replayed the voice in my head. I wondered if it was my own. I didn’t know….I still don’t.