The Victim.

TW: violence, abuse

I sipped on the wine uncomfortably. The silence in the kitchen was suffocating, only the sound of cutlery scraping against ceramic plates could be heard, sometimes an occasional sigh or cough but other than that, it was quiet. Unbearable, almost.

   I picked at the food I worked so hard on but now there it sat, cold and unappealing on my plate as the man across from me scarfed his portion down. He took a sip of his own wine, glancing at me from time to time to see if I too was eating along with him. Upon seeing that I had barely even taken a bite, he sighed in exasperation and placed his cutlery down. 

  "You know I'm tired from work, I don't have the energy to deal with your tomfoolery, especially during supper." He grunted out, eyebrows furrowed as he stares me down but I pay no mind to him, feeling anger bubble up in my chest. The nerve of him.

   "Well, know that I'm also tired of hearing from your mistress. She keeps calling, yelling at me to leave you." I choke back tears as I remember the threats the woman made towards me. My husband gave an amused chuckle, shaking his head as if I had just told him a funny joke. 

   "Ah, funny girl, that Laura." I slammed my hands on the table, standing up in a rage. "You think this is funny, Ezekiel?? That your side chick is tormenting your family??" I growled out, the pent up rage that's been building up finally got a chance to escape. I seriously cannot believe this man, after all that I've done for him.

   "Oh, calm your tits, woman. She wouldn't be giving you a hard time if you had just left in the first place." He continued eating his food like I wasn't throwing a fit, even downing his wine and refilling it. I stare in complete shock, mouth agape and my eyes wide. 

   "You know I can't leave, Ezekiel." 

 "Why not? Cuz you have nowhere else to go?" He scoffed and looked up at me, swirling the drink in his hands as if that wasn't the 7th glass.

   "Because I don't want OUR son to grow up without a father, despite you being an ASSHOLE. Or have you forgotten about our son already?" Ezekiel glared at me, his grip on the wine glass tightening. 

   "Don't you dare use my son as an excuse for your incompetence, Danielle." 

    "Because it's true! If we didn't have Lyle, I wouldn't have even married your cheating ass in the first place! But because of you not taking fucking no for an answer, here I am, stuck in this hell instead of being out there in the real world cuz you wouldn't let me go! We do this every night! You have no idea how sick of this I am! I feel like a prisoner!" I said everything that I've been keeping inside me, waiting for a witty response but was only given silence. 

   Ezekiel didn't say anything, his eyes furrowed and lips stretched into a frown. He simply ate what was left of his food, indicating that he was done with this conversation. I unfurled my clenched fist, noting that my nails had broken the skin of my palm, blood seeping down and feeling a satisfying stinging from the wound. I stared down at my hand, suddenly feeling a sense of familiarity with this feeling but I wasn't too sure where or why I remember this feeling.

   My surroundings started to spin slightly like a slow top, I guess I got quite light headed from the sudden outburst. I sighed in defeat. I knew I wouldn't be able to do much with Ezekiel, every night, we argue but get nothing out of it. Walking over to the counter a tall glass and filling it with water. I made my way back to my seat but as I stood behind him, my vision suddenly started to darken. Was I gonna faint? I heard glass shattering then everything went red. 

   As my vision cleared, I blinked and felt something in my hands, something cold and sharp. I glanced down and saw the glass I was holding earlier, the top smashed and the jagged edges were bloodied. Did I injure myself? I then noticed the thick, velvet liquid splattered all over me and onto the marbled floor. 

   I couldn't have gotten hurt, I feel nothing. My ears picked up dripping noises from beside me. It made me turn my head and as soon as I did, I was met with my husband hunched over the dinner table, eyes wide and mouth formed into a scream and blood gushing down his back like a chocolate fountain. His eyes pleaded for help for a second as he stared up at me, his gaze slowly turning lifeless until he went limp. I stared back at his body with a blank face. I felt nothing indeed.

   I snatched his wine glass from his hand and sat back on my seat. I sipped on the wine as the the silence in the kitchen was suffocating, only the sound of cutlery scraping against ceramic plates could be heard, sometimes an occasional sigh or cough. I picked at the food I worked so hard on but now there it sat, cold and unappealing on my plate as my husband sat across from me and scarfed his portion down. He took a sip of his own wine, glancing at me from time to time to see if I too was eating along with him.

   I look back at him with narrowed eyes, feeling a pang in my heart as realization dawns in on me. I'll never be able to get out of this situation, will I? My mind becomes hazy, all memories of ever even yelling at him faded, the blood in my hands drying rapidly. what's happening? What's happening? NO, I don't want to forget! Oh God, what will happen to Lyle? My poor baby boy. 

   "Please, I don't want to forget, please, let me escape!!!" I yelled out to no one in particular but once my eyes locked with Ezekiel's, everything was gone. Our surroundings were back to before as well. No blood, no glass, just us sitting at the diner table with a full plate.

   Back to square one.