Like my 'beloved' husband ordered I dressed on time for the public event patiently waiting for his arrival. The dress was black, with hardly any details to be impressed at and long sleeves for the purpose of covering those haunting scars that blemish my olive skin.

As the wife of the world's notorious 'Mr Feit' I'm supposed to uphold the title and wear a fancy dress right? I keep telling myself that even though the marriage is a failure maybe the treatment would be different. I was mistaken, he wouldn't spend a dime on me nor indulge me on any matters involving important businesses like parties because I'm not pretty or good enough.

I thought many things about this marriage and it all ended in disappointment. So I ask myself why? Why do I always neglect my feelings and just ignore his terrible treatment? Why do I even have slight hope for a better marriage when I know it's not going to get any better? I'm never going to escape this nightmare am I? I'm destined for torment and humiliation, aren't I? So in the end I just have to wait for his every beck and call. It seems as though that's my tragic fate.

Ideally a party is supposed to be celebratory and fun, but even after all those tears I shed I still want to cry some more. I lifted my shaky arms and with force I swept the palm of hands onto my now red cheeks. The force I put into the slap wasn't light as the pain erupted from my cheeks ached. Though the method may be painful it helps to calm my agitated nerves so I won't disappoint Blake any further.

I awaited his return by sitting on the dull grey couch for a few minutes. Though the designs on the couch were beautiful it lacked the soft and warm sensation it supposed to have. Warmth, this house really lacks it. But it's what I need right now. Without warmth there's no comfort, without warmth there's but a cold, frosty sensation that leaves me numb and shivering.

I want that warmth. I want that comfort. I want to change this dreary state of mind

But pessimism is something that can't be easily changed. I know that.

Few minutes went on to half an hour, half an hour went on to an hour, an hour went on to two hours and two hours to three. I guess his aim was to make me a dog who patiently sits and waits for his owner. Indeed that is what he did. He made me a fool, an idiot, a silly woman who stupidly awaited a man who doesn't love you.

After hours of waiting the cold sensation no longer bothered me but I became accustom. It became so familiar to the cold sensation that it seemed all but warm to me. I was no longer shivering from the cold but shivering from all that built up emotions.

I should have known better.

He wouldn't want an ugly beast of a wife to enter a party filled with beauties. It was like comparing a crocodile to a peacock. One was hideous and needed to hide its grossness while the other was the epitome of beauty and needed to showcase its amazingness.

I should have known his ways.

Embarrassing me like its nothing but a simple task and leaving me out here to wallow in pain.

I had no excuse because I indeed knew better, but I still had hope and waited. No longer containing my bulging tears hanging on to the tip of my eyes, I cried. Loud enough to howl my cries of pain, sorrow and rejection. My now red tear filled eyes poured more and more tears like a waterfall. I wanted to stop the tears but my heart refused to listen. It could no longer contain all the sadness it once held. It had to let it all go.

That's exactly what I did, spew all my hidden emotions out all night until I gradually fell unconscious.