[Child of God]: 416.Five Words - Contest.May

I cringed as the needle continued weaving through my torn skin, taking another swing of the bottle that occupied my other hand. 'It's not his fault' I again reasoned. 'I know what he's like when I he gets angry. It's my fault. I should know better than to get him angry. Besides, how can I complain about this one, small flaw when I have so many?' Setting the bottle down and picking up a pair of scissors, I tied and cut the thread, placing the two back into the medicine cabinet when I was done. This is just his way of asserting himself, trying to reassure himself . . . ‘Of what? How and why would he fell the need to assert and reassure himself?’ I shook my head, willing the thought away. It doesn’t matter, there must be a reason. ‘Besides, the bottom line is that it’s my fault. It must be . . .’ Picking back up the bottle, I sat on the toilet and glanced over to the bathtub, making a mental note to take my now blood-stained cream blouse to the cleaners in the morning. With the amount of bills that have been rolling in lately, we can’t afford to be buying new shirts every time some little accident happens. ‘Ya, an accident. That’s what it was . . .’