(c) Ashamed Silence; MA

Title: Ashamed Silence
Rating: MA, there's going to be several things in the story that shouldn't be viewed by... minors I guess? Not sure how to word it.
Author: Me.
Status: chaptered; incomplete.
Summary/Exerpt: "Silence. You don't want more pain, do you?"

Abuse. It's always the guy abusing his girlfriend for no apparent
reason. Other than he's either high or drunk, or a combination of the
two. She never does anything wrong. But, there's always that off chance
of something different going on.

She doesn't love me like she used to. She doesn't like me the way she
used to. She doesn't whisper pretty nothings the way she used to. She
does act the way she used to, at least around them. She terrifies me,
and I can't say a single thing to anyone about it. I'm a man being
abused by my fiance, my friends wouldn't believe it. My fans wouldn't
believe it. My family wouldn't even believe it.

Warnings: Violence, rape, and other mature themes involved in the story.

---

I woke up to the bed shifting. A
faint smile appeared on my lips as her body pressed to mine. Snaking my
arm around her waist caused her to let out a satisfied sigh. I pressed
a kiss to her forehead with a small smile of my own.

"I love you," she murmured under her breathe. Before I could respond,
she growled and stood. My eyes opened slowly, I was completely and
utterly confused by her sudden change in attitude.

She disappeared into the bathroom, coming out a few minutes later.
Smiling the slightest bit, she pulled the covers aside. I opened my
arms for her to climb into, her only rolling her eyes and settling down
into the pillow on her side of the bed.

"What's wrong, hun?" A tired murmur came from my throat. She grunted lowly, turning her back to me.

"Don't be like that. I haven't done a damn thing to you. So, tell me
what's wrong. You know I love you and won't judge you, babe," I sighed
as my hand rested against her shoulder. She only shrugged my hand off.

"Matthew, shut the fuck up," her bitter response came moments later.

"What the hell did I do?!" My own reply came without I even thinking
about it. Within seconds she had turned around, glaring daggers at me.

"Don't yell at me, asshole," she paused. A smirk tugged at her lips opening her mouth to continue, "You don't want to test me."

"I haven't done anything wrong to you. What's your problem?" My tone
must have pissed her off because the next thing I knew she had shot up
from the bed.

Her hand came up as if she was going to hit me. About to roll my eyes,
a sudden stinging sensation on my cheek forced a gasp from my lips.


Shooting off my hotel bed, I began looking around almost frantically. A
thin layer of cold sweat was covering my head as I tossed the sheet
aside. Standing up, I shuffled my feet toward the bathroom.

"Fuck. Only a nightmare," I whispered to myself to try and calm my
nerves down. Glancing toward the clock, I realized I only had a few
hours before we had to go pick up the girls.

They were finishing off the tour with us. We, as Avenged Sevenfold,
have been touring to promote our self titled album the past fourteen
months. The band still had nine to go, we were used to this cycle
though. It was record an album, tour for a good two years then repeat
the process. It was never ending, but we got too restless at home.

After a few minutes, my mind relaxed enough for me to concentrate on
something other than what was undoubtedly going to happen later that
day. Val wasn't going to be happy when we got back to the hotel room,
I'd probably do something wrong when we were hanging out with the guys.

Walking into the bathroom, I flipped on the lights. I had to blink
several times before my eyes adjusted to the bright white of the
bathroom. It was a typical hotel bathroom, complete with a towel rack
and tiles. A sigh escaped my lips as my tongue darted out to wet them
in an almost desperate attempt. It kind of reminds me of how I am when
Val and I are alone. I'm the desperate worthless person begging for
mercy. Always.

My eyes met with the reflections in the mirror above the sink. My hands
were supporting most of my weight, them placed on the edge of the sink.
Biting down on my lip, I searched for any signs of a bruise. Even if
the last time I saw her was almost three months ago, I was almost
desperate to find a flaw.

It was me trying to find a reason as to why she hated me so much. I
hadn't done anything wrong, had I? I protected her since the day we got
together back in sixth grade. I hadn't ever cheated on her with a
groupie, despite her accusations. I brought her on tour when the
company would allow it, she was always first when it came to which
girlfriend came on tour. The guys understood that and accepted it. She
was a big part of us getting off the ground with our band.

Yet, every time we see each other, I'm begging for mercy of some kind.
Whether it's mercy from emotional or physical abuse it doesn't matter.
I secretly think she likes it when I beg, she gets enraged when I just
lay there and take it.

I once threatened to tell on her. She just pointed out that no one
would believe me. That sweet innocent Valary Dibenedetto would abuse
big bad rock star M.Shadows. In the relationship, if someone got abused
it was supposed to be her, not me. Later that night when we got home
from drinking… she apologized. It's the only time she's ever apologized
for her actions. But, I'll never press it with her. She might take it
as I don't love her. I do love her though. More than she'll ever know.


checked. chester.