Mirror mirror on the wall, who is the most dangerous of them all?

"I presume you can get it done. Right?"

I swallow hard, I can hear him put on his belt back on his pants, I still wonder how It's still intact after all that whipping. Then again I wonder how long it will take for it to break, and he will just find another new belt. But that makes me think how long until I break? And he finds another omega to torture?

My eyes are glued at the hardwood flooring, it looks like the water in the pool shimmering and flowing when the early afternoon sun ray hits the water.

"ANSWER ME ALLEN, DAMMIT."

I flinch, and nod repeatedly not wanting to get hit again. But instead he grabs my hair again and yanks me closer to him as I let of a shriek of pain, gasping for air through my sobbing.

"WORDS"

He yells at me, as he smacks me across my face, I wince in pain and blurt out

"yes.. Kieth"

Through my chattering teeth, after which, multiple strands of my blonde hair falls away, as he lets go of my hair. He seemed pleased with my answer and leaves.

As I stand there in the kitchen half ***** from my hips down, with a liquid mixed with both his and mine running down my thighs and a few drops already fallen on the floor. I look up to find the room empty, even through my blurry vision caused by my tears, I can see myself. From the giant golden rimmed mirror in the dinning room at the end of the long dinner table which is already set with new white culinary, light fixures hanging above on the ceiling and walls are dimmed to a golden hue. I walk towards the mirror opposite from the green wall, I walk towards it with small steps, pain cripples through my feet into my body with each movement I make towards the mirror, as I stand in front of it.

The light from the ceiling and walls make me look for ghostly, I look at my reflection, my eyes dark and dead, with heavy bags under my blue eyes, my cheeks have lost their color, and one of them is swollen and red from the slap. My pink lips are busted from the punches that I am used to being thrown at from my husband. Many strands of my blonde hair all over my sweater from all the harsh yanking. Bruises that covet my body like tattoos over my shackled soul. And finally as I look down at my distended womb, the only part of my body left untouched by his vile forms of abuse. The more I look at my face in the mirror, the more distorted it becomes, first my eyes grow big, bigger than my small fists, and then the distress lines on my temple vanish, and my lips begin to shut, and slowly everything disappears, my eyes disapper leaving two black empty holes, where you can hide your darkest thoughts. nose, lips, tears, and every ounce of humanity and empathy I ever had. Leaves my soul, leaves my body, and then,

my face disappears,

and finally I disappear.

But then, I make a fist and punch the mirror in front of me, sending shards of flying glass everywhere. Blood oozing out of my knuckles, and dripping down my arms, and splattered all across my white shirt and face. As my breath finally seems to stabilize, I look at what I have done. And stare at my deranged reflection from the glass pieces on the floor.

"Red... such a pretty color."

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