3:14 AM

CW: Physical violence, domestic abuse, mental health

My days were regularly insufferable. The demands of living up to the Stepford wife’s persona required of me were not only chaotic, but mentally and physically exhausting. Thus, my waking hours were spent yearning for the silence of the twilight. My household was full of morning people, something I never understood, but graciously appreciated. Once the hustle and activities of the day came to an end, and the familial (and spousal) demands had ceased, I took advantage of the tranquility and solitude that the night offered me.

The devil I shared a life with laid his head down on the pillow around ten o’clock each night to drift off into his blissful slumber. I generally remained awake until midnight or one AM to decompress and enjoy time alone without the abusive rhetoric that spewed from the mouth of the man who dressed up as Prince Charming well past Halloween. He donned this ensemble whenever before an audience. However, once the door shut and his admirers could no longer bear witness, he tore the mask from his face, threw it to the ground, and set his gaze upon me with a snarl and a grin. His voice boomed as he spat venom at me until my spirit broke and any fight that once existed within me dissipated.

The few hours of solace I enjoyed each night served as my necessary escape. However, even night owls need sleep. Once my eyelids grew heavy, I retreated to the bedroom. I drew the covers back and crawled into bed with an audible sigh, knowing that not even an atomic bomb would cause the self-proclaimed white knight next to me to stir. I began to drift off to sleep and enter a land of freedom, a land where my smiles weren’t feigned and my soul wasn’t trampled.

Less than a minute after my muscles relaxed and my breathing deepened, the thunderous noise erupted from his gullet. I am not a light sleeper by nature. However, it is difficult for me to fall asleep if I am attacked by a cacophony. Sometimes, I was lucky. He would succumb to his hibernation on the couch in front of the television. Those were my favorite nights, the nights when I would gleefully dive under the blankets and doze off to the harmonious lullabies of crickets, instead of being subjected to a sleep deprivation experiment conducted by an essentially comatose mad scientist with a thunderous roar.

The snoring had been a point of contention, animus, and frustration for some time. I spent one of the many sleepless nights researching potential ways to alleviate or at least lessen it. With bags under my eyes and papers in hand, I presented my findings to him. Each option was met with snarky defiance. The nasal strips hadn’t worked in the past, so why should he try them again? He couldn’t lose weight because my cooking was too delicious, thus it was realistically my fault that this option was an impossibility. An appointment with his doctor was unnecessary. The snoring wasn’t negatively impacting anything important, so why waste the time? The discussion was crumbled and tossed out the window as insignificant and nonsensical.

I was defeated, my spirit crushed. I became convinced that his refusal to explore any of the options I introduced was attributable to more menacing intentions. He had perfected the art of torturing me while awake. If he continued his snoring, he would be able to prevent my slumber, thus perpetuating my agony effortlessly and unconsciously. The suffering would be continuous, ensuring the gleeful satisfaction of the monster.

This night was no different. The nocturnal creatures scampered freely outside my bedroom window as the flesh-covered chainsaw on the other side of the bed screamed. The soft red glow of my alarm clock displayed numbers three, one, and four. 3:14 AM… again. Another night of involuntary insomnia brought upon by the tether that bound me to my domesticated purgatory.

I turned my head to the left and stared at him, seething in disgust, willing lasers to dart from my eyes and destroy him. Just make the noise stop! I was drained beyond comprehension. Desperation for sleep was overflowing, and I was drowning in the quicksand of the hourglass that taunted me. As my eyes remained transfixed upon him, suddenly an intense, deafening snore escaped from the open chasm of his face, shaking me from my hypnosis.

As I observed this somnolent devil, a combination of hopelessness and exigency dug its claws into me. Not wanting to deal with the repercussions of waking him, I gave him a gentle nudge. His body jiggled slightly, ceasing the clamor for a wee moment, just for it to begin again shortly thereafter. In another attempt to preserve my peace, I jabbed him with a bit more force. Silence. At last! I placed my weary head on my pillow and cozied myself within the blanket. I deeply exhaled with a great sense of relief and began to drift off to sleep.

BOOM! The loudest snore I had ever heard erupted from his face only seconds later. My eyes shot open in disbelief and horror. The racket that followed wasn’t nearly as shocking. However, it persisted almost rhythmically, showing no signs of termination or suppression. I sat up and crept closer to him, quizzically studying this face in an attempt to formulate a plan. With as much strength as I could muster and near surgical precision, I slowly inched my hand towards his face. My thumb and index finger planted themselves on either side of his nose, applying pressure with the intention of closing his nostrils. The venture wasn’t successful for long. Though still unconscious, he shooed my hand away as one swats a pesky fly.

I cautiously and silently watched as I held my breath. His eyes remained closed as he continued his blissful slumber. With rageful determination overshadowing my discretion, I once again pinched his nose to block the air from entering his nasal passages with the hope that it would lessen the noise long enough for me to fall asleep. I was quickly pushed to the side, and the guttural sounds prevailed.

I knew at that precise moment that I would have to take my actions to another level if I ever wanted to get some shut eye. I looked around the room, scanning the objects surrounding me for any source of inspiration. The top of the dresser was adorned with pleasantly scented candles that contributed to the cozy aura of the home. Although the view of the carefully crafted décor on or near the dresser brought me a slice of joy, it did not provide any solutions for my current issue. My eyes continued surveying the room, moving steadily from the mess in his corner, to the closet doors, to the bench at the foot of the bed, to our respective nightstands. My mind remained a blank slate. My ingenuity was severely lacking in the precise moment when I needed it the most.

I shook my head in disappointment, deflating like a balloon. The air escaping was the optimism leaving my body. I glanced around one last time before admitting defeat. My eyes landed on him. They became blurry as tears threatened to pour down my cheeks. I relented as I realized I would never elude my auditory assailant. I lifted the pillow, laid down on my side, and placed it over my head to soften the noise. Then, it hit me with the ferocity of a runaway train!

My body involuntarily shot up with a start. I took that glorious cloud that cushioned my head each night in my hands and felt the corners of my mouth curl all the way up to my ears. I slithered my way over towards the grizzly bear, barely making an impression in the mattress. I lifted the pillow and held my breath as I considered what I was about to do one last time. With inhuman strength, I pushed the pillow upon his face as deeply and deliberately as my hands would allow, manifesting that the luxurious Egyptian cotton of the pillow would creep into his nostrils and mouth, thwarting any efforts to fill his lungs with sweet, precious oxygen.

His beauty sleep remained uninterrupted as I muscled down the path towards drowsy harmony. He stirred faintly at first, which caused me to marshal more forced than I ever believed resided within my slight stature. Once the pressure overwhelmed his respiratory system, he began to thrash and gasp for air. I remained steadfast and unwavering in my position as all the instances of his cruelty bombarded my psyche. The harder he fought for air, the farther the fabric traveled into his nose and mouth. I continued countering his flailing, capitalizing on all the rage I’d felt over the years, all the words that were smothered and left unsaid, and all the times I was convinced that I was beneath him. I triumphantly, yet silently, declared that I was the one on top now!

An unknown amount of time had passed when I noticed his writhing had ceased. I remained on top of him with the pillow between us for a few more short moments before I decided it was safe to dismount. I uncovered his face and inspected my handiwork. He was still, unmoving, unblinking. There was no rise and fall of his chest. I pressed two fingers against his neck and waited. I felt no rhythmic beating underneath the flesh.

I sat back and slumped against the wall. Then, I heard it… Nothing… Silence… Peace… It was over. My demon was exorcised. I was free. It was nearly incomprehensible after all these years. At long last, I was free! All the energy drained from my body at that realization. Yet, my soul was revitalized with a vigor I never knew existed.

I looked back over to the other side of the bed. The color had already begun disappearing from his once robust skin. My shoulders bounced as a slight giggle emerged from my chest. The intensity increased as the chuckle evolved into a full, boisterous cackle. I laughed with the strength and ferity that I lost many years ago. However, as of that moment, I was liberated! Free to laugh. Free to live. Free to experience all that life had to offer!

“Mommy! Mommy!” I heard my son yelling as I felt his little hands on my arm. I groggily opened my eyes and saw his angelic face looking at me intently with concern welling in his eyes. I asked him what happened. “I heard you laughing real loud and yelling about being free. I was scared. I didn’t know what was happening.” I saw anxious tears beginning to form.

My mind raced back to the recent events. I couldn’t let my son see his father in that state. I nervously sat up and looked towards the left side of the bed. To my surprise, the bed was empty. My head spun with confusion. “Honey,” I gently placed his tiny hands in mine, “where’s Daddy?”

“He went to work already. It’s nine o’clock,” he informed me. “Can you make me breakfast now please?”

“Of course. I’ll be there in a minute.” I watched my tiny cherub skitter out my bedroom door in his dinosaur pajamas. Although waking up to his sweet face made the sun shine a little brighter, the wind was knocked out of me as I stared at the empty spot next to me. “But it felt so real,” I whispered to the sheets.

I wiped a tear from my eye as I stood from the bed and readied myself to crawl back into my cage.