Crazy Ex-Boyfriend (6): His Abuse

As the title suggests.
The tingling, putrid smell of smoke ran up her nostrils. Sheila couldn't see anything through the dark toxic fumes, making her feel dizzy. It was so hazy, so scorching and sweltering hot. She swatted the air, choking on the wretched stench, as sweat soaked her body with anxiety.

All she could see were golden and crimson flames - engulfing the area where her car used to be.

How could this have happened?

She heard a blaring siren in the distance. Was it the fire brigade? The police? She would find out soon enough.

She watched the wild creature of fire, which refused to be tamed, grow more and more wild, crumbling her car. The car that was given to her by Mason.


Her eyes widened in realization.

Did he...? She thought, but quickly shook her head.

No. He wouldn't do such a thing.

She bit her lip anxiously, remembering the anger in his eyes when she told him they couldn't see each other anymore. It was as though there was fire within his pupils.

Fire could be a beautiful thing to look at, but it could grow unruly before getting completely out of control and becoming quite dangerous. Much like Mason's anger.


They had been dating for three months, when Mason threw Sheila's phone across the room for the first time. The small device slammed hard against the wall, the screen shattering in half.

"What the hell is your problem?!" Sheila screamed, enraged. "I was just texting-!"

"Just texting?" He interrupted, his spit spraying her face. "You promised me you'd stay away from him, you fucking whore."

Wrapping his cold hands around her neck, he threw Sheila into his bedroom. She landed hard on the bare floorboard, her forehead slamming against the solid surface. There was a coppery-taste of blood in the back of her throat.

"You thought I didn't know, huh?"

Her heart lurched, then froze, when Mason slammed the door shut. She tried to crawl away from him, but he moved faster than she would've imagined. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, hoisting her up from the floor.

"Thought you could fool me, huh?"

"No," she whimpered. "You've got this all wrong-!"

He slapped her so hard, as loudly as a clap, leaving a red welt behind. She staggered backwards, onto the bed, clutching her face, eyes watering. Mason grabbed her roughly by the shoulders before thrusting her back onto the bed.

He took off his shirt. Sheila was beginning to mumble something, when Mason lunged at her and pinned her down hard against the bed, his eyes seeming black with dark intentions.

"Don't you say a word," he snapped, as he tore of her dress in two quick movements. Her cry of surprise died of shock, in her throat, as he roughly parted her thighs and immobilized her in that position, while he feverishly fumbled with unbuckling his belt.

"How could you fucking lie to me, Sheila? How could you look me in the goddamn eyes and swear that you won't talk to that motherfucker again?"

He pulled apart his belt, slicing the air with a violent whip. Sheila winced in physical pain, her body shaking fearfully.

"Thought you could be sneaky, huh?"

He tied the belt around her wrists and forced it over her head, threading the belt through the slats of the headboard, trapping her in place. She squirmed, trying to break free, but it was hopeless. His one hand wrapped around her neck, his nails digging into her flesh. Her eyes became round and her lips parted, her body spamming, as she struggled to breathe.

"You wanna be a slut? I'll treat you like a slut."

With his free hand, he grabbed her jerking legs and forcefully shoved them apart, as he positioned himself in between her. The sound of him unzipping his pants made her feel tensed. He was looking at her with an expression she would never forget. It was a mixture of loathing and love, of deep hurt and anger that was so terrifying, she thought her vocal cords had withered.

She closed her eyes, waiting for the impact... that didn't come.

When she opened her eyes a moment later, he had covered his face with his hands and was sobbing quietly.

"I'm so sorry."

He took his hands away and looked at her with bright, moist eyes. She laid very still, while he bent over her, covering her face and neck with hot tears and kisses, especially where he had hit her, where bruises were already forming.

"I'm so sorry, kitten," he whispered, resting his forehead against hers, gazing into her eyes with immense regret.

"I don't know what's come over me."


"So, he broke into your house last night!?" Miranda exclaimed, blinking in disbelief. "Isn't that a crime?!"

Sheila yawned softly. "Mmmh..."

Miranda was stunned. She looked around at the lecture room, as if expecting a reaction from the crowd, but everyone was busy chattering amongst themselves.

"So... like..." Miranda lowered her voice in concern, "Did he hurt you?"

"No..." Sheila mumbled tiredly. "He, um... just wouldn't leave..."

Miranda frowned. "So... what did you do? Did you call the cops on him?"

Sheila bit her lip anxiously. "No."

"Then?" Miranda raised an eyebrow quizzically. "What did you do?"

"I..." Sheila blushed coyly, "We, um, spent the night together."

Miranda's mouth dropped. "Girl, are you serious?"

Sheila groaned and rested her face against the desk.

"No wonder you're so tired. Must've not gotten much sleep, huh?" Miranda said, shaking her head. "And I remember you telling me off when I slept with Brian! What was it you told me?" She pretended to think and snapped her fingers. "That's right! You said, golden rule: Never sleep with your ex! And, now, look at you! You're doing the exactly same thing."

Sheila groaned again, resenting herself for caving in.

Miranda chuckled at her friend's dismay. "So, what now? Are you guys getting back together?"

"I don't know," Sheila murmured, closing her eyes. "It felt good, but I regret doing it."

"Listen to me," Miranda said assertively, surprising Sheila with her change of tone.

"That boy is not good for you, Shelly. Trust me. I want what's best for you - and he's not it. You can do way better! And you don't want an on-and-off relationship, take it from me. I've been there, done that. Its way too exhausting."

She patted Sheila's back. "Just let him know that it was a one-night thing and it won't happen again."

Sheila heaved a distressed sigh. "He's going to lose his mind."

"I know," Miranda rubbed her back gently. "But it's better than repeating history. Learn from your mistakes, girl."


They laid under the stars, resting on a blanket of sand and listening to the ocean waves. Sheila could feel Mason's heartbeat against the back of her head, and she could hear the soft breaths of him by her side.

After he had shattered her old phone, he bought her a brand-new, more expensive phone and he treated her to a candlelight dinner on the beach. Her stomach felt full and her heart felt warm.

And you told me,

You found the blueprint,

Of nature's beauty,

When you looked at me.

They locked eyes with each other and he found himself falling for her, like the shooting star above. He imagined the shooting star falling down to earth and morphing into a human - that's what Sheila was to him. His star, his wish come true.

And that day I learnt,

My most beautiful curve,

Is my frown upturned,

When you looked at me.
Published: 12/2/2019
Bouquets and Brickbats