Broken

Broken

She shuddered as he took a looming step towards her. She could see the rage illuminating in his eyes, the malice in the edges of his face. She backed up slowly, staggering away from him, her long burgundy curls bouncing up and down with every step she took. She watched, as if far away, as he raised his hand, his cold palm coming down hard on her soft face. She flinched, her own hand rushing to cover the sore he had just made. The blood began to rise in her cheek, a solid handprint engraved on top of her beauty, on top of her joy. She could feel a trickle of blood running out the edge of her mouth. She put her gloved hand to it, making sure it was real. Seeing it was, she fell to the ground shattered.

He had broken her, ripped every shred of bliss she had left. It hurt her when he smiled upon seeing her pain, but she couldn't leave. She dared not to leave out of fear, fear of what he would do if she did. She was trapped, like a mouse in a maze, with nowhere to go... no one to save her. She was left to torment and punishment, her own doing, though she would not take it back for the world. Those few days of bliss they had at first were magic, an experience she would rather die than trade, though she seemed to only want out; but she couldn't. Now she had no one to save her, no one to sweep her off her feet. She had driven them all away by choosing him.

He smiled. "Go, I don't want to see your filth anymore." She slowly stood up, her golden dress falling down around her feet. She felt his cold eyes upon the folds of her gown, her tearful eyes. They coldly raked up and down her slender figure, taking it in hungrily. She turned her head down letting a sea of fiery hair fall down about her face as if it could hide her from him. It was all she wanted. To be far away from his view was enough for her. At least then he couldn't hurt her.

She took a shaky step forward, the sound of her shoe on stone echoing about the mansion. She paused momentarily, looking up at him, up into the eyes she had once loved. The icy gray orbs offered nothing, only the promise of the dread that was sure to come. Not able to hold herself back, a single tear leaked from her chocolate eye, tracing a path down her cheek, between her freckles.

She began to shake, the frozen atmosphere slicing through her bones. She couldn't take it, the silence she let herself lapse into had consumed her, had caused her pain. She no longer was able to talk to him; it was hard enough looking at him. He had grown annoyed over time, thinking she was trying to punish him with her silence. It was what had brought her beatings. It had all too soon become a game with him, a sport; one she did not wish to play. He found enjoyment in torturing her with pleasure and then immediate pain.

"What?" he spat, seeing her thoughtful eyes leaking before him. She snapped up, tearing herself from thought, her eyes never leaving his. She took her hand to her cheek, wiping the tear away quickly. He sneered at her, taking a step towards her. She gasped, closing her eyes tightly; afraid of the strike she thought would come. Upon feeling the absence of his harsh hand, she let her eyes flutter open slowly. He was standing close to her, his hand tangled in her hair. She exhaled, relieved and scared at the same time. Her eyes darted down to her feet, though she could not dismiss the exhilarating shocks of pleasure that were shooting up her spine from his touch.

"Speak Virginia," he whispered into her ear, his soft breath rolling across her face. She drew in rugged breaths, his chest heaving slowly. She felt as if her heart were about to pound its way out of her ribcage. Saliva filled her mouth, her entire body screaming out to her to give in to his desire.

All the cold was flushed out of her body as it was replaced by warmth. She shook her head no; her eyes closed shut tightly. She pressed her lips tightly together, fearing what he would do. He let out a cold laugh, a tendril of blonde hair falling sweetly across his face. He moved closer, his callused hand caressing her cheek. He watched as she relaxed under his touch. It pained him to not hear her sweet voice. He had been submitted to the silence of his castle; she would offer nothing more.

"Come now, talk to me," he growled stepping back from her quickly in one graceful swoop. She sighed, her eyes, suddenly harsh, flitting up to his own. Ginny looked down at the wedding ring that lay upon her hand. The gold band squeezed onto her finger, the ruby shining up at her. It was meant to be a dragon's eye, she knew, but one Dragon was enough to deal with. She suddenly removed it from her tiny finger, throwing it at his broad chest.

Enraged, he pinned her to the wall. His grasp was strangling her wrists from its needed blood, but he didn't care. Tiny bruises began to form on her fair skin, his hands pressing harder into them. He watched with pleasure as she gasped in pain; receiving all the punishment she deserved. He removed his grip, bending down to the floor to retrieve the ring. Ginny slumped down the wall, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. The necklace she wore pinched tighter and tighter about her neck. She feared he had cursed it to train her not to cry, but she did not care for the pain, she would have preferred it to living with him.

"Put it back on," he hissed shoving the golden ring in her face. She looked up, slowly extending her hand to it. Frail fingers clasped about the ring as she slipped it around her finger. His strong backhand came down upon her shoulder as a warning. She slowly stood up, her legs shaky and weak.

Feeling strength return to her, she stood. Her legs firm, she took a step forward. Feeling no pain she began to quicken her pace. Soon she was running up the crystal staircase, her bloodstained glove trailing along the frigid banister. She did not stop running until she reached her room; at least what was supposed to be her own room. He came in late every night, trespassing on her privacy, but they were married after all. She inwardly damned herself for thinking she could have made herself a life with him.

Ginny opened the door, her hand gripping the snake doorknob. Dark light streamed through her window, catching her in the spotlight. She removed her shoes, stepping down onto the hard wooden floor. Prancing gracefully over to her bed, she pushed the curtains away to make enough room as she fell through the opening, her face falling softly onto her cold pillow.

A river of pain flowed from her eyes, her fear turning to rage as she hit her pillows violently. She stopped upon hearing her door creak. She gasped. "Who's there?" There came no answer, only a soft prodding of footsteps over to her bed. She turned her head upon seeing her husband. He lay down next to her, wrapping his hand about her waist.

"It's good to hear your voice," he sighed, laying his head amidst her fiery curls. She tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but he was too strong, his hold too fierce. So she lay, aggravated and tense in his arms. She slowly relaxed at feeling his hands trace the freckles upon her back. He pushed away the material of her gown, kissing her shoulders lightly. She turned to him, her eyes soft and caring as she let her finger slide down his nose, outlining his soft lips.

Ginny allowed his lips to kiss her finger and then move down her arm. His eyes held content upon her face, not moving to examine what he was doing. She closed her own as his lips moved to her, covering them fully. Then she parted them slightly, allowing his tongue to enter her mouth. She shivered upon his cold caresses, his chilling passion. She began to undo the ties on her robe, wondering why he was snickering at her.

It was for no other reason than that he had truly broken her.