I try to remain as calm as possible as I make his dinner. He can't suspect anything as I prepare to leave. The worst-case scenario is that he finds out what I'm doing. I have no idea what he'll do to me, but the thought is enough to send a chill down my spine.
[Maybe I should have asked for someone to accompany me. I was so worried about being a burden that I didn't want to get anyone else involved.]
I light the stove and throw some vegetables into a pot to make a stew. I'm not allowed to eat any meat, but I have to make sure to put a few pieces into his bowl. Meat is too expensive for both of us to eat. Sometimes, I'll buy some meat on a skewer from a stand on the way home. I have to make sure not to buy too much or else he'll notice that I'm low on money.
"Hurry up!" He cajoles me from my pleasant daydreams with his shouting. My shoulders hunch unconsciously at his demands. My arms race frantically around the counter to finish his meal as quickly as possible. I've made this a thousand of times, but he always complains no matter how I make it. His derision has left my heart rubbed raw. Just a glance is all he needs to send me into a downward spiral.
[When did things get like this?]
At first, I thought I just needed to be careful. He's nice when I act the right way. It happens slowly, ever so slowly. Every day, he would add one more thing that he didn't like or that I did wrong. Things that weren't a problem initially, have now become a spark for violence. I've tried leaving before. I remember it so clearly, he screamed and spat while I packed my things.
"You're a worthless bitch!"
I folded my clothes into a bag.
"No one cares about you! Your family doesn't even care that you're gone."
I collected my pitiful savings into a pouch.
"You're just a dumb whore, and if you leave, you'll have nothing!"
The door is right in front of me. The marred wood slab is all that stands between me and freedom. Fear grips my heart, and I'm rooted in place. I could feel the familiar warmth of tears wetting my chest.
"You better make sure I never see you again or I'll kill us both."
That was the weak spot. He kept digging until he found it. He just said anything and everything he could think of to make me stay. On some level, I think I still cared about him, and the thought of either of us dying was enough to make me turn around. To this day, that door is burned into my memory.
For the next few weeks, I thought things were going to improve from there. He even smiled at me once. That damned smile. Sure enough, I made a single mistake and we were back to square one. Those two weeks were such an oasis of hope for me.
"See? He can get better. I just have to believe. If I just do what he says, everything will be okay." I used to tell myself anything for just a glimmer of hope. Slowly, I started giving up more and more control hoping something would bring us back to that island of happiness. I kept giving and giving until I had nothing left. No money or possessions; he doesn't even let me leave the house except to go to work. I can't talk to people unless I'm shopping, and if I come home too happy, he thinks I'm planning something behind his back. Friends are a distant memory. I think that's hurt me the most. When I lived in my village, I used to have so many friends. I gave all of that up for him, for nothing. I've loved until I'm raw, and I've only received pain in return.
While drifting around my memories, I accidentally overcook the vegetables. It's only the tiniest bit, but I'm sure he'll notice.
[He's going to know something's going on. I'll have to move quickly.]
I finish preparing his meal and place it at the table.
"Dinner is ready," I say while hiding any emotion in my voice.
"It's about time," he says grumpily and trods over to the table. "No dinner for you?"
I notice a hint of suspicion in his tone. Ice pours down my back at his question.
"I'm not feeling well. I'm going to lie down for a bit."
"Hmmph," he grunts at me dismissively as he tears at his meal. I can feel fear shooting up and down my body. Panic begins to set in. On the way to our room, I stop by the kitchen and grab a knife. I make sure to hide it from his sight as I continue on my way upstairs. Once the door is closed behind me, I find a bag in the closet and shove a few pairs of clothes in it. I was planning on taking more, but now I just want to get out of here as soon as possible.
'BANG!'
The sound of the door slamming open causes all of the blood to drain from my body. I can hear his ragged breathing clutching at my heart. A sickening silence descends upon the room.
"What do you think you're doing?" I muster what little courage I've collected throughout the day and respond without turning around.
"I'm leaving," I say with as much conviction as I can muster.
"Not with my clothes, you're not. Are you trying to steal from me?" I don't have it in me to argue, so I press on.
"Fine, then. I'll leave naked." I start to pull my dress off over my head when I feel a shattering pain in my back.
'Cough.'
I fall to the ground in a heap.
"You're not going anywhere! I own you!" He grabs me by the hair and slams my head against the dresser. My skull erupts into a splitting headache, and I can't see straight. I'm dazed but conscious. He takes another step toward me.
[He's going to kill me.]
I have to do something to survive. My fingers move to the cold hilt of the knife I left next to my bag. I grip it and swing.
"AAAAHH!"
He falls backward with the handle protruding from his thigh.
"YOU BITCH!"
I struggle to steady myself and make for the door. It's all I can do just to keep my balance. The door is right in front of me. I grasp the handle.
"Don't forget to take this with you!"
I feel a punch land on hard my side. It feels like a whole house hitting a single spot. I fall to the ground and grasp the wound. It's wet. I pull my hands back and see blood pouring out of the hilt of the knife.
"Now, look what you made me do." He throws his hands up in the air in frustration. I remember him making the same gesture when I spent too much money on a dress. The room is quickly growing cold. My hands are shaking. I'm going to die. The one absolute I'd been avoiding these past few years has me in its clutches. I can feel tears pouring down my cheeks as I face the endless nothing.
[He warned you. You should have just done what he said. Everything would have been okay if you just did what he said.]
He grabs me by the throat as the cruel thoughts circle around my mind. His eyes coldly move over my body. It's as if he's inspecting garbage. I'm nothing to him. I'm less than nothing.
No! Don't give this to him! He may have controlled your life, but he will not control your death! You're free! You made a decision with that freedom. The price may be too high, but you chose nonetheless. Don't give him the satisfaction of your fear! Show him that he doesn't control you anymore! Show him you aren't afraid! Smile! You useless bitch, smile! You fucking worthless whore, smile!]
I show my teeth in an unconvincing smile. Most of my vision is gone at this point, but I can just barely make out the frown on his face.
[I won.]
Tears blurry the remainder of my sight and gush down my cheeks as I let loose the biggest grin I'd had in years. The muscles in my face strain to show him the most overwhelming smile I can muster.
[I won. I'm free.]
'CRACK!'
He bashes me in the face and drops me to the ground. My consciousness fades. The candle flickers and the light dims. The caged bird has sung her last song.