(content warning: domestic violence)
Five.
Five times I tried to leave him.
Five times he went too far.
When the surgeon first told me I was broken, I didn’t believe him. I told him that even though it would take time, I would heal. With the lowering of his gaze, he slowly shook his head.
“The bones in your left arm are shattered beyond repair. We’ll need to replace them with a special alloy.” And so began the first of my five ‘enhancements’.
When I returned home, much to my surprise, he greeted me with an embrace. With my new silver bones I had the strength to do as he had done to me, but instead, I embraced him back. I buried my head in his chest and the molten lava within me was met with icy waters. Everything was normal, for a while.
Then came the reinforced jaw. Then the installation of facial impact dampeners. Then the nano-web coating on my ribs. And most recently, the bionic eye.
My superficial friends always react the same. They tell me how sorry they are, but in the same breath, they force me to see a silver lining.
“You’re so much stronger now! I don’t see why you don’t just leave him.” They weren’t wrong, I was stronger than I had ever been before, but it wasn’t weakness keeping me there. It was the beating anchor hiding under my nano-web coated ribs.
My true friends would just hold my hand and weep with me. They asked me if I was afraid of dying. I said no, but I was afraid of living with nothing of me left. Yet, here I am.
Six.
