She lies in the corner of the bathroom, beaten in every imaginable way. She lies there like a physician after a surgery that last half the day and her bangs stick to her face by the glue that are her tears.
She is defeated in every aspect imaginable through the eyes of the outside. She clings to the fact that she will win this war. She will win because it was her that fought the battle and not her child. She declares victory for the bruises are hers and hers alone.
She stands knowing that what must be done, must be done. She proclaims herself worthy of freedom. Her child deserves one less relation, for with brings a life of despair.
She thinks not of the financial burden that will soon trap her, but only the emotional annihilation that her child will escape. She will find support from the most unlikely people who will show her how to fight back without raising her fist.
She is powerful beyond the strength of steel, knowledgeable more so than any order. Her beauty shines grander than the sun. She is a beaten woman, who has declared her worth.