She gagged on the scent of her own searing flesh. The pain was so intense, a soundless scream was the most noise she could produce. Tears blurred her vision. For a while, her thoughts only centered around the pain. The cool air bit at her wound as it passed. She managed some gasping breaths, but it wasn’t enough.
“There, there. It’s all over, pet.”
She dragged tired blood-shot eyes to the man she had trusted. He was a possessive man. She had known, she just wasn’t aware how possessive he could be. She knew now. In his mind she was his.
She glared at him, but he merely smiled and swung the cattle prod around.
“You won’t be making eyes at anyone else now, will you? You know how jealous it makes me.”
“But I w-”
“Uh-uh-uh,” he interrupted. His finger ticked back and forth. “I asked you a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question. If I wanted excuses, I’d give them to you. Now, let’s try again. You won’t be making eyes at anyone else. Will you?” His words held more force this time around, like giving her an ultimatum.
“No.” She felt sick.
She flinched as he ran his hand along her newly-mutilated skin. How had she become like this. When had she fallen so far.
“Go clean your self up. I feel like going out to celebrate.”
She tenderly made her way to the bathroom. Once she got passed the door, she locked it, hoping for a minute of reprieve.
As she looked in the mirror, she tried to see the strong independent woman she used to be. All she managed to see was the pathetic girl branded as property that she had become. She tried staring harder. If she could just find some piece of her former self, she felt she could rise above this. All she needed was a piece, any piece at all.
But as she looked in the mirror, all she could see was the brand.