"Why do you overreact to everything? Seriously, you women are a pain in the head," he yelled at her, anger boiling over from her words.
"I was not overreacting; I was just expressing my opinion, Mark," she replied, backing away from him, knowing what he was about to do.
"Shut up! In my house, you are not allowed to speak against me," he said, advancing toward her.
Standing in front of her, he grabbed her hair from the back and cupped her cheeks in his hand aggressively.
"Mark, please leave me alone," she pleaded, fear coursing through her at the thought of what he might do next.
"Shut up," he retorted, slapping her hard on the right cheek.
She fell to the floor from the impact, blood beginning to trickle from her mouth due to the force of the blow.
"You are not permitted to speak in my presence," he shouted while retrieving his belt from the cabinet.
For an entire hour, she screamed in agony from the sting of the belt, begging him to stop, but he was relentless.
"Go make me food, woman," he commanded after he had finished beating her.
She grasped the bed for support to rise, her entire body aching from the abuse.
This was not the first occurrence; in a world where men dominated everything, a girl like her felt she was merely surviving in the face of such cruelty.
While he reveled in his life outside, she suffered here every second, every minute.
Was she the only one enduring this? No, there were countless women experiencing the very same ordeal.
He had shattered her dreams, her life, her future, leaving her to endure such treatment.
She had tried to escape, but where could a woman like her, with nothing to her name, possibly go?
Neither the police, her family, nor society would come to her aid.
She would simply perish somewhere, unnoticed, uncared for, without a soul to worry.
"That's so tragic that this happened to her," a woman remarked while reading a diary penned by an unknown author, detailing the life of her mother who had succumbed to abuse.
And what was truly unfortunate was that she had received no justice, even in death.
