Pretty Little Pearls

Pretty Little Pearls

I had been inspired to go out and have fun. “Some fun”, I muttered as I grabbed a towel and turned on the hot water. I climbed into the shower and stayed there until the warmth was gone and my fingers were shriveled. Even that shower couldn’t wash away what had happened that night. Once I found the strength to pull myself away from the tub, I found myself staring into my mirror trying to make sense of everything.

I’d put up a fight, the evidence: my face swollen and bruised. He’d hit my head so I would lose consciousness and be easier to handle. After that, my memory seems to fade until when I finally woke up. I was lying in the dark, on the cold ground in a back alley behind the apartment where the party was. I ached all over, but my ears felt like they were on fire.

My thoughts wandered to the past. He used to be so loving and showered me with affection and give me “presents that were a gesture of his love”. My favorite, most cherished gift he had ever given me were the genuine pearl earrings, with necklace to match. The day he gave them to me he said, “the most beautiful jewels, for the most beautiful girl”. Once, we had been in a heated argument and he said he should have just bought the faux ones instead. When I asked him whey he told me, “fake pearls for a fake bitch”. I never knew what version of him I would get.

He used this pearls against me at every bad turn. Over time I finally realized they definitely weren’t gestures of love. If you love someone you don’t try guilt them into doing things they weren’t ready for. They weren’t just material objects. They were lust. They were hatred. They were sin in general. As these thoughts were spinning in my head, I finally remembered what had happened..

I had called him and told him I was finally through. I didn’t want to go through the hell he was forcing me to live in anymore. He had said unbelievably unkind things to me, worse than usual, and demanded for everything back. Then I became angry and told him that’s fine, he would be getting everything back, but not tonight because I would be busy celebrating my new relationship status. He hung up and I gave him no second thought until he show up at the party. He stumbled over to me, alcohol on his breath and fire in his eyes. I looked around and there was no one else around.

He knotted his hand into my hair, yanking and dragging me outside to the alley. I fought like hell, but with his size and alcohol fueled rage he fought harder. After quite a few jabs and punches he threw me to the ground. He whispered in my ear everything he hated about me, and revealed his true motive behind all those “gestures of love”. “Since you couldn’t take a hint sweetheart, I’ll just show you.” As he said that I scrambled to get away, but that was when he knocked me out. I faded in and out of consciousness feeling the pain, his breath all over me, his hands seemed to multiply and I just prayed for it to be over. After an eternity, I felt his weight lift from me, but he leaned down and whispered to me again, “ Since you’re already here I’ll take these back.” That was when I felt him rip the pearls out of my ears and off my neck. He walked away leaving me lying shattered and alone.

I recalled all of these details first to my mother, then the police, and eventually in court to the jury and the judge. Then, he was gone. Ironically, a few weeks later I was checking the mail and those pearls were in a package. I felt a wave of disgust wash over me as I saw they were accompanied by a formal letter of apology, obviously part of the terms of his sentence. Under the wrapping, however, there was a smaller more personal note that read: “I want you to have these back and remember everything we had together.”

All I could think was, “How could I ever forget?”