would all along. “Go to hell,” I whisper. He rears back, giving me the fleeting satisfaction of his shock. “What did you say?” I gulp a sob and scream it this time. “Go to hell!” From the moment I sat down to have this conversation, I knew tonight was going to be worse than usual, but I’ve just guaranteed that tenfold. Normally I can retreat to the untouchable place inside of me as he unleashes his ire, but not tonight. I’m present for every punch and kick. Every hurled insult. And when it usually would have stopped, it doesn’t…and that’s when I start to get scared. I’m crawling across the
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