A Good Wife Takes Care of Her Man

Warning: Violent. He quickly and forcibly walked up to me. As his hand reached for my neck I began to feel the pain. The power he used lifted my entire body up off of the ground as he shoved me into the grill of the van. The spikes in the grill pierced the skin on my back. Our eyes were locked and I was struggling to breathe. My lips moved but the words wouldn’t come out. “Please stop, I’m so sorry, help me.” His other hand created a fist and I watched as he drew his arm back, I thought for sure he was just going to smash it into the van for an anger effect to teach me a lesson. I saw the fist coming towards me, I am not sure when, but I closed my eyes and then I felt the impact. My head hit the hood of the van and I could feel the wet blood cover my face. Before my eyes opened I felt his hand around my throat release its grip and I fell to the ground and everything went black.

These 10 seconds were all it took to change my life forever.

Once I was able to open my eyes, I attempted to sit up. I could taste the blood pooling in my mouth and I could feel the sting from the cuts on my face. My body was shaking uncontrollably. My vision was blurry, partially from the blunt force of his fist and partially from the uncontrollable tears streaming down my face.

In that instant, I realized that I didn’t know where he was. I knew I had to get to safety. What do I do, do I go inside of the house and barricade myself into the bedroom. No, he could easily break that door down. Do I dare run and knock on the neighbors’ doors begging for help? I quickly thought who in their right mind is going to answer the door to my bloody mess. Then unexpectedly another thought came to mind, maybe I should just lay here and let him come and finish the job he started? He’s made it quite clear that I don’t deserve to be alive. I am just a stupid woman that’s not worth the time of day or the air I take away from him to breathe. When did life become this complicated?

“I have been a very good wife for the past few weeks. I did everything he asked of me, no more and no less. I made sure not to talk back or question anything he said. I even let him touch me, with those grotesque hands of his, how I cringed the whole time. I forced myself to act like I enjoyed being with him and when I got sick afterward, I hid from him. I have done everything right, why was this happening to me again.”

One word in that entire thought hit a chord in my bitter, broken soul. “Again.” How many times had I let him hurt me? I never fought back, as I always felt I deserved his backlash. My fear allowed his instincts to grow and his anger to reign. I created this monster by allowing him to think he was better and stronger than me.

I took a deep breath as I looked around to find that he was nowhere in sight. I got myself up and got inside, I couldn’t let the neighbors know what happened.

It was almost dinner time and if I didn’t want to feel the wrath of his hands again I knew that I had better get up and get his dinner ready. I washed the blood from my body and combed my hair, I needed to look my best for him. I went to the kitchen and started cooking as usual. I decided to make him pasta for dinner as that was his favorite and I needed to keep him in a good mood tonight.

Just before I was done cooking, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and I knew he was watching me. My hands started to tremble so I leaned on the counter to stop the movement. I made a quick turn and greeted him with a smile. His deep voice grunted back to me and said “Get my dinner on the plate woman, I’m hungry.”

I rushed to get it to him as quickly as possible, I know I must serve his food hot. I sat across the table from him, I needed to be near him in case he needed anything else. I didn’t dare eat while he was eating, I knew the rules. I sat there quietly and watched him chew each bite and chase it down with a mouthful of beer.

The mood was dreary and the air was silent. He told me to fetch him the butter. I got up slowly and walked over to the counter. I picked up the dish and brought it to him. I gently laid it on the table and stepped back. With the darkness of the room in my favor I walked behind him unnoticed.

I grabbed his hair and pulled his head back with a quick, strong tilt. I inserted the knife into his neck and watched the blade slit his skin until the red blood glistened throughout the wound.

With a calmness I have never felt before, I sat back in my chair across from him. I began to talk. I thanked him. I thanked him for every time he pulled me around by my hair when I didn’t follow his rules. When he put my hands over the heat of the stovetop until they burned because I talked back to him, I appreciated that now as well.

“You see, you hurt me for so long that I truly believed that you were right to hurt me and teach me a lesson when you felt the need. But now I see that I was wrong, very wrong. I was stronger than I knew and it took you to show me that. As he took his last breath, his head slowly collapsed onto the table. I could hear him trying to speak as the blood seeped from his body onto the floor. I told him, “Don’t you worry, I will clean that up. I will clean everything up and make it look as if you were never here. Oh and that hunting trip you were planning on taking this weekend, sweetheart, I will make sure you get there. After all, a good wife takes care of her man.