It wasn’t always like this

At least, it wasn’t when she tried remembering things and how they were

She tried to remember how it was in her mind. Her palace with its beautiful sky blue walls and hardwood flooring. The sunlight coming in through the windows as golden beams, spilling across the dark floors and her bed with sheets brighter than the very clouds in the sky. And while it was built on what were now brittle bones, it was filled with laughter, deep conversations, and love. Portraits filled the walls of the grand entrance, and outside was an endless sea of tall grass, waving in the breeze with the promise of summer

There was a deeper understanding and knowledge that what you invested into this palace, you would receive in return. She would tend to the garden, her soft dusky hair tangling around her eyes and ears as the wind would blow. She would squint over the meadow, her eyes burning to see if she would spot him in the distance

And so she would tend to the garden, the livestock, the kitchen, and await her Prince’s return, eager to be reunited with her Love

When was it he stopped being her Prince again?

Was it when he came back to their hearth, drunken and belligerent, speaking spells that would sew seeds of hatred and pain within the very foundations of their home? And was it around that time that the roaches began finding their way into residency?

His hair crosses her mind. Shoulders length. Just a tad darker than chestnuts. How smooth it looked in the light of day, and yet mysterious at night. It framed his handsome face so well. And in the distance, thunderstorms illuminating a stoic expression within those deep brown eyes. So deep you could feel yourself being pulled into a whirlpool of enticement

Was it the first time he was caught dancing with someone other than her? Drinking this stranger’s ambrosia, as if there were none waiting for him where she resides?

And was the linoleum flooring always cracked and breaking in the bathroom?

His staring, in such a way that they pierced into the core of your soul. Enchanting, seductive, peculiar. Cracks began forming around the doorframes and corners of the bedroom. A rusty, bent and warped gate ran along the boundaries of her meadow. I wonder how she managed to overlook that for so long

Was it the first time he took things too far, hurting her? She looked down at her hands, now worn and realized she was covered in dirt. When did that scar appear on her ring finger? Did he really cause that? Was it a dream? Or was she just not remembering it correctly, like he had told her?

She could still feel the warmth coming off of his welcoming tan skin as he pulled her into an embrace. Speaking words of misunderstandings, forgetful of what had happened the night before, letting bygones be bygones. A return to routine, to warmer, happier days. A promise of change for the better. The air began to feel stale, and the stench of rotting began to permeate the hallways of their home

Holes “and food thrown across the walls and the floor as his voice echoes like thunder. She looks around the room, his dirty laundry covering the floor. Piss covering the toilet seat, mold growing in dark green mossy patches along the walls above the bathtub and toilet

Slowly in time, she began to realize that the palace she was seeing was nothing more but an an illusion. A false reality. And that her existence was very different than what she was being told and promised it would be in time

But even then, it still was not enough to break the spell

It wasn’t enough when he refused to let her leave with peace in her heart, holding his weapon to himself in front of her and threatening to end his life when she tried to cut ties between them. Suddenly desperate to make things right, while she begged and pleaded for him to stop

It wasn’t enough when he grabbed her by her wrists, slamming her down onto their bed in a fit of fury. Fear, anger, and betrayal ripping and pulsating throughout her body as he screamed and pinned her down, his now black colored eyes filled with hatred

It still wasn’t enough when she had to kick him off of her, and as she fled the room, he followed. Roaring, the very dragon entrapping her within the bars of her cage, as he shoved her into the next room entrapping her yet again

Not even her finally defending herself against the dragon, as she spat defiantly into the face of her abuser

No.

It was when he looked at her with such detest and rage as he wiped her spit from his eye. The look of resolution as he pulled his arm back. And the feeling of his knuckles connecting with her cheekbone

The rattling of her brain from the force of his fist against her face

The spell broke, and just like that, she could see everything with fresh eyes…