Tobacco-stained fingernails dug into Radha’s flesh.

           She started to protest, but he squeezed her wrist. Her words shrank into a yelp that bubbled from her lips. She didn’t understand why he was so angry; then again, he never needed a reason.

           She struggled against his grip, and he twisted her wrist as hard as he could. There was a muffled crack, and her vision went white.

           Radha woke with tears in her eyes. She glanced around and realized that she had fallen asleep on the couch in her living room. She dried her eyes and massaged her throbbing wrist. It should have healed by now, but it still ached whenever a storm was coming.

           She sat up and stared out of the window. The sky was cloudless, and trees swayed in the breeze. Sunlight illuminated the peeling yellow wallpaper in the corner of the room.    

           The weather seemed fine, but she knew better. Her ex-boyfriend could be calm as a balmy summer day, but then a dark mood would come over him without warning. When it did, he left Radha with bruises so large and swollen that they resembled clusters of grapes.

            Her eyes followed a piece of wallpaper as it flaked off and drifted to the floor. The apartment was terrible, but it was better than the alternative. She ran her fingers over the crescent moon-shaped scars on her wrist. They marked the spot where his sickly yellow nails burrowed under her flesh like maggots.

          The sunlight disappeared, and she turned back to the window. The trees stopped moving; the entire world had gone completely still.  Another twinge of pain shot through her wrist as dark clouds crept over the horizon.         

            “Damn it,” Radha muttered. She clenched and unclenched her fingers, but the pain didn’t stop.

           The swollen clouds smothered the sky and vomited rain onto the world below. A fierce gale screamed outside of the window, and thunder roared. Radha clamped her hands over her ears.

           “Stop,” she whispered. “Stop, please stop…”

           Lightning streaked through the clouds, and another blast of thunder shook the apartment.

           “STOP!”

           Radha stood up and rushed across the room. She raked her fingers across the wall and tore at the wallpaper until tattered shreds piled up at her feet. She hated the apartment. She hated her ex and the scars he left behind. And she hated herself the most for thinking that things would get better. She kept tearing, and red streaks appeared on the bare wall.

           She didn’t stop until the storm passed, and when it did, she sank to her knees, exhausted. Her fingertips were bloody, and yellow clusters of wallpaper clung to her nails. The pain in her wrist started to fade, but she knew it would return. She stared at her scars and wondered how many storms it would take before she brought the walls down around her.

– Alec Kissoondyal