Empty Space Short Story

Empty Spaces
As I look in the mirror the empty space, where my smile once was, now reminds me of a time I was abused and humiliated. It is a constant representation of someone trying to break me down and take my smile away. I close my eyes and I can still feel the fear that anguishes my insides. Twelve years ago, I was in an abusive relationship with my youngest son’s father. We loved each other, or so I thought, but he was controlling. I should have seen the signs, but I ignored them. I kept giving him opportunities to change. Sure he was sweet and very giving, however, his temper would change quickly, and the horrendous abuse was leaving its mark both physically and psychologically. He would break my personal items, including snapping the
He was upset because I was smiling. “What can I say? There is nothing wrong with smiling” I responded. I put my son down in his crib selecting his favorite toy. I thought to myself that this has always been the cause of our discussions. He had punched my face several months earlier causing my teeth to loosen. This time he grabbed my neck pressing so hard I couldn’t breathe. Then, he slapped me several times leaving traces of his palm on my face. I defended myself; I was enraged; I couldn’t take it any longer! If I could only throw a punch at him I would have felt satisfied, but in the commotion I missed him and he hit the side of my head, and I fell on the bare wood floor. I thought I had lost consciousness. For a split second, while laying down, I saw a blurred image of him from the corner of my eye walking toward me. I thought he was going to help me up, but instead, while uttering the words in Spanish “Toma puta”, meaning “Have it, bitch”, he stepped on the left side of my face, cracking and breaking my upper right and left premolars. I went to the mirror, I saw a perfect image of his boot on my face. I went to the window, like a pure coward he fled