I want my dinner ready when I come back from work, and I want you to clean this house. You made a mess doing the weekend. Cray was still in a rage, he had no backbone of the play. So, the way he handled his stress was blaming it on his new wife. They have only been married for a couple of days and he was treating her like a slave like Cinderella. I want my dinner ready, and what have I told you about covering up when cooking? Cray asked while yanking her shirt and tearing her jewelry that her mother gave her. Emma held her tears. Cray left his phone on purpose. Every time Emma needed help with dealing with Cray's rage. She would call Malia for help. Then her mother. Emma was like she was being watched, like in a horror movie where if she made a sound, the killer would find her.
Cray was behind her, listening to her conversations, and her desperate need for help. That is what he enjoyed. Like a Scorpio waiting to sting but not yet. It was too early. I need my phone. Emma gasped.
Did I scare you? Asked Cray. Walking up to the bed, grabbing the phone, and then leaving. Emma felt scared. She needed to find something to hurt him with real good where he couldn't get up too easy but that was impossible. Before cray walked out, she blurted out.
What are your secrets? You can tell me anything! Said Emma as she waited behind him. Praying for an answer but he didn't.
I will see you at dinner! It better be done when I get home. Cray said. Slamming the door.
Emma tears flew down without her even doing so. She closed her eyes and more tears flew down. The disappointed hurt like hell but she didn't have time to cry or sit in it. The way she coped with it was with art. She drew and drew. Her secret talent was drawing. An interesting knock came through the door. I wonder who was it.
She quickly put up her paints, her paintbrushes, and drawings. That was her secret and was meant to be kept. Since everyone was keeping secrets.
The door knocked again but this time with more heavy banging. Emma opened the door and Cray's mother pushed Emma aside and came on in the house.
I need some tea! Make me some tea! The mother demanded.
Emma calmly nodded, giving a sneaky look while her back was turned, placing a little of meth in her tea, along with the sugar. Although the mother was already addicted to coke, the mother didn't do meth, it would place her under a coma, or her skin would break badly where she couldn't recognize herself. Emma smirks with the comment she made.
String the tea calmly and quietly. Even though she was angry inside, hoping that her plan would work. Once stired completely, she gave it to the mother gently, without any attitudes. The mother lost her balance or did she ?
Glass shattered all over the floor. Emma bends down, looking at the ankles that was in front of her. The glass was right next to her, and Emma could have used the big piece of the cup to stab the woman in the middle piece of the fatting of her leg but didn't. She picked up the glass nicely.
What a good girl! The mother said. Walking out the house. Emma held her rage, Emma throws the plate down towards the door and didn't pick it up.
Candles lit, wine poured, food served. Everything that he liked was on the table before he came home. Cray walked in the house with rage, he was angry. Emma stood still with hands behind her back, with her favorite lingerie on but not his favorite. When things didn't go the way as planned, he would be in rage. Emma stood still, with teary eyes.
How was your day? Asked Emma
Cray didn't answer, he walks around her, looking at her. Sniffs her hair.
This is not what I like! Cray said. He started to yank the lingerie off of her, pulling most of her hair. Then pulling out the chair, and aggressively throwing her down on the chair. Emma sobbing, holding her arms against her breast.
Cray sits down roughly, jerking the chair for him to sit. I had a rough day today! One of my opponents got the best of me today. I lost one of the cases. Damn them, I only have 6 more months before I become a judge and they are screwing with my money.
Well, maybe you need to do your homework more! Said Emma. Sobbing her words, breathing, crying tears.
Cray throws the plates down, throwing them against the table. Emma tears dried up fast and quick, she leaned over towards the table, cocking her eyebrows, holding the fork in one hand and knife in the next. Her mind was racing to do something crazy but becoming calmer was her only choice.