All I’m doing in the video is speaking my truth, standing up for myself and correcting his lies. Holding him accountable for his changing stories. And yet he’s making me out to be the one with the problem. I should feel angry, but all I feel is hollow.
I don’t know if this is the first video he’s taken like this, or if there are more that just haven’t synced to the cloud. But it doesn’t matter, really. The energy it would take to fight back is energy I don’t have.
I’ve spent so long trying to defend myself from his words, his hands, his manipulation. Now it feels like I’m fighting a war I’ve already lost.
So the video stays out there somewhere, lingering in the cloud, waiting to be used against me. A shadow that will follow me, just like him.
For what purpose, I have no idea.
But I know it isn’t good.
CHAPTER 6
DIGGING MYSELF DOWN DEEPER
MARGAUX
Ican’t take it anymore. I really think I’ve reached my limit. My hands tremble as I type out an email for work, my mind unable to focus.
Something inside me has snapped, a fragile thread pulled too taut, finally breaking under the strain.
Every word I write feels like an impossible effort, every keystroke weighed down by the relentless cycle of chaos Timmy has put me through.
Every time I try to relax, my mind betrays me, pulling up maddening memories like a relentless slideshow of pain and indignity.
The smirking emojis and affectionate banter he exchanged with that ugly girl—her, of all people—are etched into my brain like a scar.
The bruises on my body that never seem to completely fade, a testament to his outbursts and the violence and general roughness that has become a part of my daily existence.
And his constant criticism, picking apart my words, my actions, everything that makes meme, until I feel like a hollow shell of who I once was.
He always has an excuse, of course. His star sign. His alleged mood disorder. Anything but personal accountability.
And he gets away with it, every single time.
Because every time I try to hold him accountable, he makes me regret it, so it’s just easier to say nothing. To let things slide. To let him roll over me like a bulldozer.
It’s the Timmy show and my co-starring role has warped to the point I’m now an extra making a cameo here and there.
But now, as I glance over at him lounging on the bed, watching another dumb movie, I feel the familiar tide of resentment rise within me. There he is, not making any attempt to be a productive member of society, while I’m here holding everything together—emotionally, financially, mentally. He knows that if he upsets me, it affects my ability to write, and sometimes renders me unproductive for the remainder of the day—so he upsets me alot.
My fingers hover over my laptop keyboard as I force myself to stay calm, to keep the words from spilling out. But they’re pressing against my chest, clawing to be free.
“You don’t care about me at all. Just what I can buy for you,” I say finally, my voice trembling but determined.
His eyes flicker toward me, disinterested. “K.”
That one syllable. That dismissive, infuriating syllable. My heart pounds, blood rushing to my temples. “You don’t actually care about me,” I say, louder this time, anger cracking my voice like a whip.
“K.”
The one-letter word feels like gasoline poured on an open flame, and I erupt. “I’m done with everything. I’m so done. You wasted months of my life. We aredone. You never loved me.You piece of shit!” The words pour out of me, each one louder than the last, my voice shaking the air between us. My body is trembling now, too, humming with a sick energy. I’m mortified by my loss of control.
He finally looks at me, his expression a mixture of boredom and disdain. “Okay, fuck you,” he says, his tone even, unaffected.
“Fuck you!”I scream, my voice raw and desperate, the sound of it ricocheting off the walls.
Without another word, Timmy stands and slides open the screen door. I watch as he walks off, his silhouette disappearing in the direction of the meth tents nearby. I sink back into my chair, feeling the adrenaline drain from my body, leaving me hollow and defeated.