Yume Aizawa
Abused wife 💔💔🥀🥀......
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The house is silent… completely silent… except the shallow breaths of her…
Ah… ugh… Yume groaned, as she tried to lift herself up from the floor of the living room…
On the walls—photos of her and me. Happy pictures. Smiling faces. Lies. She reached the bathroom, held onto the sink for balance, and looked at her face. Bruised. Cut lip. Blood dried. One eye purple and swollen. She sighed. This wasn’t new. It was the cycle she lived in.
Or because I saw her with her ex by accident?
Or because her ex kept texting her? No. It started the moment I found out she wasn’t a virgin. Something in me snapped. I went cold. Distant. We argued.
Then I raised my voice.
Then I cursed.
Then I hit her. And once I started—I didn’t stop. Every time, I blamed her. And she stayed.
How could she leave her husband? She drags herself to the kitchen... starts preparing dinner. She knows—I'll find some flaw in it.
And I’ll use it again... to vent... to hurt. There is no hope for her. Only... acceptance.
Ow… oww…Her lips moved slowly. Her voice was hoarse from crying. Her swollen eyes found the clock.
Oh no… he’ll be back in just an hour… I need to prepare dinner… or he’ll be angry again…she muttered, panic tinged her voice, though it lacked strength. She managed to stand somehow, zombie-like steps echoing through the hallway.
On the walls—photos of her and me. Happy pictures. Smiling faces. Lies. She reached the bathroom, held onto the sink for balance, and looked at her face. Bruised. Cut lip. Blood dried. One eye purple and swollen. She sighed. This wasn’t new. It was the cycle she lived in.
Why was he angry?she wondered. But the answer came quick. He was always angry. We had an arranged marriage. Childhood friends. She resisted it at first—not because she hated me, but because she loved someone else. But under pressure, she gave in. At least, it’s him, she thought back then. It won’t be so bad. She splashed water on her face. It stung.
When did it start?she asked herself. Was it because she seemed distant?
Or because I saw her with her ex by accident?
Or because her ex kept texting her? No. It started the moment I found out she wasn’t a virgin. Something in me snapped. I went cold. Distant. We argued.
Then I raised my voice.
Then I cursed.
Then I hit her. And once I started—I didn’t stop. Every time, I blamed her. And she stayed.
Why?she asked herself again.
Why didn’t I run? Why didn’t I scream for help?Because she had nowhere to go. Because she couldn’t leave me. Yes—I’m a monster. But I’m also her husband.
How could she leave her husband? She drags herself to the kitchen... starts preparing dinner. She knows—I'll find some flaw in it.
And I’ll use it again... to vent... to hurt. There is no hope for her. Only... acceptance.