Battleship

...

was all that mattered to me.  The love and attention he gave me just by listening drew me towards him. It was with him that I found comfort and felt relieved of my responsibilities and expectations from my family. For once, I felt free because I was no one but myself. There was no hiding and no sense of fulfilling anyone’s expectations. This new-found freedom was almost foreign to me, scary even. Naturally, I resorted back to what I knew how to do: please and strive towards unrealistic expectations. Allen became my world almost obsessively. Everything I did had to make him happy and, that was my only source of happiness. After a while, my dependency on Allen became overbearing and as expected, dark days soon arose. Progressively, our fights felt more personal, harsh and, as fast as it had arrived, my light was gone. Everything we did for each other before now seemed irritating and bothersome. We both became paranoid and anxious, abusive both physically and emotionally, and in an instant, everything was just as it was before I met him. The supposed torment I felt with Allen was all too familiar and, I wanted nothing than to escape that life forever.

The pain was almost unbearable to the point where my screams were no longer considered human. The amount of red dripping from my arms and wrists were incomparable to what my hand absorbed from my legs. What started off as a selfish act, turned into a genuine concern for another human life. The color blinded my vision, cutting my already limited breath supply. Embroidered towels that hung against the smooth, ivory walls lost vibrancy and strength as my nails dug into their flesh, tearing open what I wished was my own body. The knife, a permanent and easy answer to end all pain and suffering, was far from my reach, a small sliver of hope. The bathroom mirror glimmered, showcasing the only source of light I was able to see in the already lit room. I saw my reflection lost and in pain, sweating from head to toe. I watched myself grab my abdomen as I gasped for more air.  For the first time in a long time, I called out to God, praying for forgiveness. The world was no longer the world I knew. People no longer existed. I screamed His name in cries for mercy fighting for the life of my unborn child as well as my own. A new life. I pleaded. A new life for me, my own.  

I looked longingly into the mirror, searching for answers, when I discovered a new face standing by herself on her own two feet. Still in pain and still lost, but she stood on, strong and determined. Behind her, the board game appeared and playing with her were the very demons who, in all her life, possessively ate away at her soul, annihilating her identity. I watched them take over the board, sinking each of her ships one by one until she only had one ship left. Years of anger and regret poured out of me as I slammed my fists on the marble countertop nearly splitting it in two. I looked into her eyes and made a surprising discovery. She was calm and collected and, I watched her in awe as she blasted each one of their ships to pieces.  In her eyes there was no need to please anyone other than herself. There was no need to fulfill anyone’s expectations other than her own. The board was hers - it was my own. This was my life, and I control the game. My own reflection replaced hers and, in my eyes, I finally saw a realization of self-worth and acceptance.

“Make your move, kid,” he said, ignorantly. She stared at her board again, smiled, and looked at him. “What are you smiling about?” He barked. She smirked as she watched his cocky grin fall in disbelief.

“I believe I just won the game.”