Powerless Bummer

Ada was panting; the icy hatred in her eyes was clearly unhidden. Her heart was racing a million miles, the tears flowing uncontrollably and thoughts crisscrossing in her head. How can she know what to do and not be able to do it? How can someone rob you of your freedom and still perfectly play the victim?

His hulk stood, not so far from where she was. He gave her a cocky look that said, “You know that you can never win”. The reality of that coursed through her being and she sobbed the more. 

She had just finished another fight with the devil, her husband. Adrian was a man of many uncivil abilities. Getting into a squabble every now and then was a hobby for him. Though a highly sought-after programmer, he was the height of irresponsibility. A 6.7ft tall, 90 kg of human material. Manipulative and dubious to the core. 

With one last look at his conquest on the floor, he ambled out of the kitchen. Weeping on the floor, she wished would breathe her last. She felt so little and insignificant. The reality of her obscurity was overwhelming. 

He had physical strength on his side; her urge to beat him to pulp was never going to be satisfied. He was the breadwinner so running off with the kids was not on the table. She hated the idea of single parenting and towing this line gave her a weight of guilt. She has to consider the kids. Worst of all, she didn’t have money. This is so unfair! What will she be able to do without money? What is freedom without money? What is adulthood without independence? How did she move from being caged in her father’s house to this maximum security prison of a marriage? How could God allow all this things to be? Her agony knew no bounds. The pains in her body were nothing compared to the numbing pain in her soul. She felt crushed.

The voices in her head came on. 

“You know you’re wasting your time. Get off the floor and continue your life from where it stopped. Nobody cares”. 

“If no one cares, then you should. Care enough to not allow your death in this house. Do something!”

The first voice won. 

A dart of her eyes made her smile a bit. His phone was on the floor and in pieces. Well, if that was the only thing her feminine punches managed to hit, then her own side of the scoreboard had one stroke at the very least. 

Still in the haze of her fresh pain and misery, she frantically rummaged her rucksack in search of her phone.

“Mummy, I need somebody to help me and warn Adrian. Let him never brandish a knife in my face again”.

“Good morning to you too”, replied Mrs Orlando. Almost immediately, she blasted from the other end of the phone “Wait a minute. Did you just say knife?”

“Yes, I did”.

“What in the… Has he gone insane?!”

“He has always been. I just want to…”

“Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?”

“Yes, he did but not with the knife”

“This thing is really getting out of hand. Nobody should hurt my child. Ever. How are the kids?”

“They are fine”.

Ada logged out at this point. The next ten minutes of the phone conversation was for the benefit of her mother and the network operator. The days that followed passed like the flipping of the pages of an uninteresting book. She didn’t know how she lived through them. But she was very aware of the depression and anger she had. The one thing that never left her was a vengeful feeling. She felt spineless and without support. How can she lack the ability to protect herself and also lack the ability to attack what have refused to let her breathe?

The voices again. 

“You have to do something and do it fast. Call Ahmed. Let him handle it.”

“Ahmed does not handle such things well. Do you want blood to flow? Calm down. Remember, vengeance is not your thing. Focus on yourself. Build your life”.

Sharp jolts hit her. Why can’t she find the willpower to revenge? Doing right now felt like wrong. The vacillation mocked her: today, she gets a hang of the options she has and tomorrow, she experiences a dearth of options. Life became ambiguous and mind-boggling. She wondered on how she will be able to handle oppression and depression. Physical and verbal abuse. Joblessness and hopelessness. Motherhood and adulthood. Something has to happen, one way or the other and the first weight to be rolled away is depression.  

This last line of thought was a lifesaver. A quick bath and dress up saw her off to visit a few of her friends. That turned out well and refreshing. 

The sound made by the approaching footsteps in response to the doorbell she rang spelt trouble. The clouds were heavy with droplets waiting to be let out. 

But she didn’t flinch. 

She was prepared.

“Where are you coming from?” Adrian barked. 

“I went to visit some friends”.

“Here”, he blurted out as he flung a paper at her, “That should put the kibosh on your plans to run away”! On his face was one of those his smiles that irked her so badly. She couldn’t suppress the urge to hate him so badly for turning her into an irascible mess.

After a quick perusal of the contents of the paper, she turned at him with a sneer. “It is so sickening to think that you can even stand in front of me and gloat because you have succeeded in forging my signature. You are a sore loser. Even you should know that”. She tore the paper to shreds while letting out a laugh that passed for a shrill.

The shock of disbelief on his face arched one of his eyebrows.

“What did you just do?”

“Honey”, she drawled. “I don’t know any sane person that will pay attention to that and believe that I can be a signatory to such spew. What on earth will make me sign away my kids to a monster like you? Get serious. I am tired and I can hear my bed calling. Good night”.

She knew that she had to quickly walk away so that he won’t see the other side of her that almost believed that she must have signed that in one of her drunken states. He had a way of reading all of her thoughts. What a devil. 

Lying down on the bed, she couldn’t help but mouth a voiceless ”thank God” for how this night’s episode ended: she walked away as he was launching a whole new line of vituperation to assuage his ‘defeat’. The paper in her hand did tune up her powerlessness but she didn’t let it show. Before she drifted off to Wonderland, she spent few minutes reminiscing on some good news. An NGO has granted her a scholarship abroad. They even secured a residency and work permit for her. Best of all, she can go with the kids. All thanks to Ahmed. 

For the first time in many years, a broad smile was spread on her face; the kind that was connected to her heart. The person lying down on the bed was no longer Adrian’s powerless bummer.

THE END