Snapped

Trigger warning: alcohol induced abuse and murder.

It was a restless night as I sat at the edge of the bed and stared out of my window and into the night. It was late but I was awake. I looked over to the garden and was happy to see it rain. It had been a while since we had a good rain and it was bringing life to the flowers. Soon they would flourish and bring a fresh scent to the air. The yard was beginning to form puddles like it did the night of the accident. An accident that was made subconsciously in a moment of anger. I snapped. 

My husband Will was an abusive drunk. He would come home from a night out with “the boys” and decide I wasn’t worth anything and beat me. This went on for almost a year. I would lie and say I ran into something, tripped down the stairs; whatever excuse I could muster up to people when I would show up with a new bruise. I was scared of him. He controlled me with fear.

One rainy night I heard the door slam shut and knew he was home from the bar down the road. There was already a faint smell of alcohol coming through the vents and I immediately felt nauseated. I knew the beatings were soon to come. I thought if I pretended to be asleep he would just pass out right on top of the bed once he came into the room. Wishful thinking. 

Will came up the stairs to the bedroom and began to feel me up. With the smell of his breath making me cringe, I moved away. He pulled me back over onto my back and tried to kiss my neck. I told him I wasn’t in the mood and that I was tired. He didn’t like that response. He told me to shut up then straddled me and began to unbutton his pants while trying not to fall over from intoxication. Fed up, I shoved him off of me and tried to take off toward the door. Before I could turn the knob he had already got a hold of me and slapped me in the face before telling me how much of an ungrateful slut I was. He took a hold of my hair and pulled me towards the window. After opening it with his free hand he shoved me halfway out the window with my hair still tangled between his fingers.

The sky seemed darker than usual and the yard was littered with puddles from the rain. Will had left the car lights on and was halfway parked in my garden, clearly not caring about the flower beds I recently mulched. He quickly jerked my head back toward him making it hard to breathe. His mouth was right on my ear as he whispered that I better learn to behave or he would kill me. Something in those words and fearing for my own life while hanging out the window, something in me snapped. 

I had had enough of this abuse and feeling small. A wave of anger came over me like I’d never felt before. I finally felt brave enough to stand up for myself but before thinking I swung my elbow straight into his nose. Probably not the wisest move to make considering I was dangling halfway out the window but luckily he kept a hold of my hair when he stumbled backwards into the bedroom. He finally released me so he could clutch at his nose and with a swift move I grabbed the wrought iron lamp from the bedside table and swung it as hard as I could into the side of his head. His hands dropped and he began to stumble to one side before falling to the floor with a thud. 

For a moment I held on to the lamp in shock of what I’d just done. It was like a different woman woke up inside of me and took control. My breathing was labored and my heart felt as if it was beating in my ears. When I came back to reality I looked at Will and he was completely still. Not even his chest was showing signs of life and I noticed the blood that was pooling on the floor. I began to panic but for some reason I started to laugh. He was dead. I felt a sort of relief as I realized he could no longer hurt me. He could no longer keep me in fear. I was free. I resented him and hated him. For months I was under his thumb as a puppet to his demands. Now it felt different and I wasn't sure how to accept this feeling of no longer having to dread coming home to a husband that was supposed to love me but beat me instead.

I looked out the window that I was scared of but now appreciated. I found a chance to take matters into my own hand as I hung out of what I thought would lead me to my death, but instead it led me to freedom. A gust of wind from the storm blew into the room hitting me with a refreshing chill as I stood there in my gown. I let it enter my lungs as I took a long deep breath in before turning to my now deceased husband. I grabbed his arms and drug him to the window and somehow mustered up the strength to lift his upper torso up and over the sill. With a final push he fell to the ground below two stories down. I looked out the window down at him and smiled. Call me crazy but I’ve never felt better seeing his lifeless body lay in a puddle of mud. Then it hit me, I still had potted plants that needed to be planted in the garden. Why not do that now? There’s no one to tell me that I can’t. I wouldn’t be punished.

I put on a pair of boots and a jacket before going downstairs to the garage for a shovel. The rain felt good on my skin and the chill of the air helped me calm down. I walked over to Will and drug him over to the edge of the garden and began to dig.