Post by Jenny (Reffy) on Apr 24, 2009 16:14:16 GMT -5
“Sorry isn't good enough, Charlotte!” The man yelled, thrusting a stubby finger at a small woman.
“I didn't mean to ... I'm sorry” She gabbled on, still stood in the kitchen.
“Don't give me that, Charlotte” He sneered, taking a menacing step forwards and crossing his arms. “You know what you did. You know you meant to do it. Who you talking too, Charlotte? Your lover? Is that what it is? While I work all day to pay your bills!”
His voice had grown in tempo and volume since they had started talking. It always ended this way. She did some thing unforgivable and he would explode about it. This time it was the phone bill. They had received it in the mail this morning and it was more than ten dollars. She was only allowed to make small phone calls and only at certain points during the day. She thought she had kept that rule, but the paperwork showed otherwise.
“No, no. Its nothing like that” She tried to defend herself but it was like talking to a brick wall. She unconsciously took a step back and away from him, her hands fidgeting with the small clean apron she wore.
“Don't give me that. Tell me why I shouldn't walk out on you right now! Tell me!” He spat in to the sink, still uncomfortably close to Charlotte.
When she did not answer immediately he raised his hands in exaggeration making her flinch. For a second she believed he would hit her.
“Fucking dammit, Charlotte. The things I do for you – and all you can do is stand in the kitchen, make more mess, and talk on the phone to your lover.” He turned around, grabbing his coat and wallet. “I'm going out. Don't expect me back”
With that he walked out of the door, slamming it behind him.
The neighbors knew about the raging arguments they had. When they had first moved in, a year ago, everything had been sweet between them, but it had quickly turned sour. The bills added pressure and the work he had to do. Small arguments started sprouting up monthly. That was almost half a year back. Now they happened every night and with the same result. He would explode about some thing, she would end up crying, he would go to the pub and drink away all their money. Money they needed to pay the bills.
He set rules for her. It kept the peace, which is what she wanted, so she followed them. Anything to avoid the arguments. Not to stay on the phone for more than ten minutes, no longer than ten minutes in the bathroom, breakfast dinner and tea to be prepared for him with no questions asked. Sex when he wanted and how he wanted. She had to just close her eyes and obey.
* * *
March 14th Dear Diary,
We got into another an argument today. Adam was really angry this time and ended up drinking again. Always drinking. Marriage is a lot harder than I thought it would be. What happened to the loving Adam I grew up with? The one who would bring me chocolates and sing me songs. God how did I get myself in to this mess. I shouldn't have spoken to my sister for so long on the phone the other day. She can talk for hours. Wish she was here. She'd know what to do about Adam. She'd tell me how I could save the marriage. He came home and puked on the carpet some time during the early hours. I cleaned it up so he wouldn't yell at me in the morning. I don't know what to do any more.
* * *
“Charlotte? Charlotte?” Adam shouted from the table. He was part drunk already, even though he had only just gotten home from work.
Charlotte came rushing in, wearing the same apron but now much tattier. “Yes?” She stood hunched over, her hands almost in a praying position and her head held low.
“What is this Charlotte? What is it? Did you really want me to eat this? Its as cold as shit now!” He slurred from the chair, half falling out of it.
“Its shepherd's pie, dear.” She tried kindly, hoping the answer would suffice.
“This is nothing like shepherd's pie. Dear” He put a lot of sarcasm on the word 'dear', trying to make her feel rotten. He picked up the plate and quickly shoved it in her direction as if to prove a point. The vegetables nearly rolling off and on to the floor.
“I'll reheat it for you”
She took a step forward to take it from him politely but this only angered him more. He stood up so quickly, his larger body dwarfing her small bent over frame. The chair he had been sitting on fell over with a loud bang.
“NO!”
He yelled and threw the plate. It shot past Charlotte and smashed against the wall. The potatoes stuck to the wall, while the gravy and meat ran down to the carpet. “I don't want your shitty food. I'm going out”
Charlotte's shoulders sunk in defeat. Adam picked up his coat and wallet again and slammed the door as usual. It had been another two months of upsetting and failing him. No matter what she did, she was still wrong. Tears tumbled down her face. He was removing any thing that she enjoyed. Constantly breaking her spirit. Now the life they once had was merely but a dream. She was a prisoner to her own home.
* * *
June 1st Dear Diary,
There's got to be a way out. I feel like I'm trapped here in this never-ending circle. Its like my pappy always used to say 'Stop the World. I want to get off'. I always used to laugh at that comment – now I realize how horribly true it really is. I know now that I can not longer save my marriage. I'm nothing to him. He just expects me to cook for him and clean for him. He continues to ... force sex on me. I try to tell him no, but he pins me down. He hurts me. I could hardly clean the house last week, think he caused some bruising. He's drinking away our money. I really don't know what went wrong. Guess I never will know because he would never tell me. I still love him. I just wish we could find a way to make this work.
* * *
“Charlotte?” The scream came from the bathroom.
Charlotte had been in the kitchen cleaning up the dishes from dinner. She had hardly touched her food during dinner, just pushing peas around with her fork. Getting up to fetch beers for Adam multiple times. He had eaten his food and had mumbled a thanks. She had just stayed hunched over, her hands in her lap.
Her appearance had gone even further down hill. She still wore the apron, but now it was smudged and dirty. She asked for some money to buy a new one, but Adam had exploded about it, screaming that it was his money. Her eyes had pushed back even further in to her head, with deep dark lines surrounding them. Her lips were dry and cracked, but smattered with lipstick. Adam insisted on her still using make-up and she had obliged. Her freckles all but gone under a pasty skin color.
Quickly, now she rushed from the kitchen to the bathroom. She entered to find him sitting on the toilet but the lid was down. He was holding some thing between a pair of tweezers and he looked pretty infuriated by it.
“What the fuck is this?” He held it up even further for her to see. She hardly dared look, but did any way. It was a small pubic hair. Most likely one of her own, or his. She had not cleaned the bathroom that day, too busy with the rest of the house and the slowly waning energy.
“Its a pubic hair.” She replied carefully. If she stayed silent it only would have made matters worse.
“Who's is it Charlotte? You been fucking your lover in here? Who is he Charlotte? Who is he? Your cheating on me and I knew it, Charlotte” He seemed to taunt from the porcelain throne.
“I don't have any lovers Adam. Your delusional” She replied quietly looking down, not daring to make eye contact.
Unfortunately, she had said the wrong thing. Adam rose slowly, placing the tweezers and pubic hair evidence in the sink. “You said what?” He leaned against the wall and leered in to her face.
“I ... I'm sorry Adam. It was a slip of the tongue. I love you” The last part of the sentence was forced. How could she still love him after all that had happened.
“No you don't Charlotte. Your fucking another man. How could you love me when your enjoying another man's dick!” He leaned even further closer, forcing Charlotte to lean further back.
“I'm sorry” She was on the verge of crying. Her voice breaking and tears blurring her vision.
“WHAT do I keep telling you Charlotte! SORRY isn't good enough” As he said this he clenched his fist and brought it down across her face. It was a swift movement and it seemed to shock Adam, who stood still for a few seconds looking at his wife. He moved out of the bathroom instead of staying to apologize or see if she was alright. He stormed out of the apartment. She knew where he would be.
Charlotte had taken the full blow of the punch. Feeling the crunch of her cheekbone, the rush of blood and then the swirling head. The blow had knocked her head, forcing her body to swing and hit against the wall. She did not fall over but she did yelp in pain, her legs beginning to shake. The sudden shock of it all swimming around in her thoughts. Her hands reached up to feel the swelling and check for any breaks. She did not hear the door slam this time, the ringing in her ears drowned that out.
She knew she had to stop some of the swelling with an ice pack. As she turned to walk out of the bathroom she caught herself in the mirror. Her nose dripped with hot sticky blood. The swelling had already started, forcing one of her eyes to squint. Her cheek bright red and obviously painful. She could not look at herself, quickly looking down and away.
* * *
October 8th Dear Diary
I went grocery shopping today. Had to hide most of my body. Lucky its cold out – wore my turtle neck sweater. People couldn't see the bruises. Kept looking down for most of the time. Afraid to show my face. Almost afraid to leave the house ... but I have too for him. Had to get food and beer for him. I love him. I do. Woman at the shops saw me ... she saw the bruise above my eye. She tried to tell me I could get help. That there was help out there. That I didn't need to live like this. She had bruises too. She looked like she understood. I pushed her away and ran from the shop. I should have talked too her, but I was too scared. If I get help he'll kill me. That much I'm sure of. There really is no way out. Maybe I'll go back to the shop tomorrow, see if she's there again.
* * *
Its about four in the afternoon. Adam doesn't get home for another two hours. Charlotte had done most of the cleaning. Done her usual activities for a Tuesday. Cleaned kitchen top to bottom, the roast was slowly cooking, washing had been folded, carpet was vacuumed.
Today was different however. Today she'd had done enough. This was the day she would move forwards. She was going to leave him.
She'd sorted out all of the bills, sent the pet to a animal home, given instructions to a neighbor about where to contact her. It was all set. She would leave. No more being pushed about. No more being a piece of meat to her man. She still loved him of course, but he would no longer keep her caged like a bird. It was like a weight had been taken from her shoulders. She would leave this World of hate and punishment. To live again.
Now she was running a nice hot bath. She wanted to be clean before leaving. She'd used all sorts of smelly potions, causing a pink foam to settle on the top of the water. Steam rising and filling the room. The mirror was covered with a pillow case. She did not want to see her reflection. Every time Adam left for work she would cover it and then uncover it just before he got home.
Charlotte walked in, wearing a long purple bathrobe. She leaned over and turned off the taps, babbling her fingers in to the warm soothing water. It was the perfect temperature. With her toe, she pushed play on the CD she had set up. It filled the room with soothing music. She dropped the robe, which crumpled too the floor. She took no notice of the black and blue pattern covering her ribs and neck, nor of the swelling on her shoulder. It no longer mattered.
Carefully and dainty she stepped in to the bath and sunk in to the hot water. It covered her body, making her skin a little more pink than normal, due to the heat. She let out a sigh of relief and relaxation. It had been a long time since she'd been able to relax.
For a while she hummed along to the music. It brought back fond memories of her and Adam as children. Always play fighting in her mothers garden. He would make her mud-cakes and she would bring him pretty flowers. The first time they had kissed, their first date, the prom, their first home together. All the happy memories now drifted to her peacefully.
After ten minutes the water began to grow cold. She sat up and reached over the side of the bath. Her prune fingertips grasping a kitchen knife. She smiled at it, almost cradling it like a baby. She sat there for a second, just thinking about her actions. Adam would come home and find her. His heart would break, just as he broke hers. The thought caused her pain and happiness.
“I love you Adam. Always have, always will.”
With that said she took the knife and ran it down her wrist, leaving a small trail of blood. That small trail gradually grew in to a river. It poured in to the bath, diluting the water from a pretty pink to a morbid red. At first Charlotte gasped at the pain but then she relaxed in to it, leaning back in the bath. It would not take long. She would live again, elsewhere. She would no longer be his puppet. She smiled, her face relaxing.
Charlotte's thoughts became cloudy, the music drifting in and out. Her senses dulled, the water no longer feeling hot or cold, just heavy. Her muscles easing and no longer holding themselves afloat. Her eyesight floated across the bathroom, watching the bubbles rise and fall. Until she finally closed her eyes. Floating away like the bubbles.
“I didn't mean to ... I'm sorry” She gabbled on, still stood in the kitchen.
“Don't give me that, Charlotte” He sneered, taking a menacing step forwards and crossing his arms. “You know what you did. You know you meant to do it. Who you talking too, Charlotte? Your lover? Is that what it is? While I work all day to pay your bills!”
His voice had grown in tempo and volume since they had started talking. It always ended this way. She did some thing unforgivable and he would explode about it. This time it was the phone bill. They had received it in the mail this morning and it was more than ten dollars. She was only allowed to make small phone calls and only at certain points during the day. She thought she had kept that rule, but the paperwork showed otherwise.
“No, no. Its nothing like that” She tried to defend herself but it was like talking to a brick wall. She unconsciously took a step back and away from him, her hands fidgeting with the small clean apron she wore.
“Don't give me that. Tell me why I shouldn't walk out on you right now! Tell me!” He spat in to the sink, still uncomfortably close to Charlotte.
When she did not answer immediately he raised his hands in exaggeration making her flinch. For a second she believed he would hit her.
“Fucking dammit, Charlotte. The things I do for you – and all you can do is stand in the kitchen, make more mess, and talk on the phone to your lover.” He turned around, grabbing his coat and wallet. “I'm going out. Don't expect me back”
With that he walked out of the door, slamming it behind him.
The neighbors knew about the raging arguments they had. When they had first moved in, a year ago, everything had been sweet between them, but it had quickly turned sour. The bills added pressure and the work he had to do. Small arguments started sprouting up monthly. That was almost half a year back. Now they happened every night and with the same result. He would explode about some thing, she would end up crying, he would go to the pub and drink away all their money. Money they needed to pay the bills.
He set rules for her. It kept the peace, which is what she wanted, so she followed them. Anything to avoid the arguments. Not to stay on the phone for more than ten minutes, no longer than ten minutes in the bathroom, breakfast dinner and tea to be prepared for him with no questions asked. Sex when he wanted and how he wanted. She had to just close her eyes and obey.
* * *
March 14th Dear Diary,
We got into another an argument today. Adam was really angry this time and ended up drinking again. Always drinking. Marriage is a lot harder than I thought it would be. What happened to the loving Adam I grew up with? The one who would bring me chocolates and sing me songs. God how did I get myself in to this mess. I shouldn't have spoken to my sister for so long on the phone the other day. She can talk for hours. Wish she was here. She'd know what to do about Adam. She'd tell me how I could save the marriage. He came home and puked on the carpet some time during the early hours. I cleaned it up so he wouldn't yell at me in the morning. I don't know what to do any more.
* * *
“Charlotte? Charlotte?” Adam shouted from the table. He was part drunk already, even though he had only just gotten home from work.
Charlotte came rushing in, wearing the same apron but now much tattier. “Yes?” She stood hunched over, her hands almost in a praying position and her head held low.
“What is this Charlotte? What is it? Did you really want me to eat this? Its as cold as shit now!” He slurred from the chair, half falling out of it.
“Its shepherd's pie, dear.” She tried kindly, hoping the answer would suffice.
“This is nothing like shepherd's pie. Dear” He put a lot of sarcasm on the word 'dear', trying to make her feel rotten. He picked up the plate and quickly shoved it in her direction as if to prove a point. The vegetables nearly rolling off and on to the floor.
“I'll reheat it for you”
She took a step forward to take it from him politely but this only angered him more. He stood up so quickly, his larger body dwarfing her small bent over frame. The chair he had been sitting on fell over with a loud bang.
“NO!”
He yelled and threw the plate. It shot past Charlotte and smashed against the wall. The potatoes stuck to the wall, while the gravy and meat ran down to the carpet. “I don't want your shitty food. I'm going out”
Charlotte's shoulders sunk in defeat. Adam picked up his coat and wallet again and slammed the door as usual. It had been another two months of upsetting and failing him. No matter what she did, she was still wrong. Tears tumbled down her face. He was removing any thing that she enjoyed. Constantly breaking her spirit. Now the life they once had was merely but a dream. She was a prisoner to her own home.
* * *
June 1st Dear Diary,
There's got to be a way out. I feel like I'm trapped here in this never-ending circle. Its like my pappy always used to say 'Stop the World. I want to get off'. I always used to laugh at that comment – now I realize how horribly true it really is. I know now that I can not longer save my marriage. I'm nothing to him. He just expects me to cook for him and clean for him. He continues to ... force sex on me. I try to tell him no, but he pins me down. He hurts me. I could hardly clean the house last week, think he caused some bruising. He's drinking away our money. I really don't know what went wrong. Guess I never will know because he would never tell me. I still love him. I just wish we could find a way to make this work.
* * *
“Charlotte?” The scream came from the bathroom.
Charlotte had been in the kitchen cleaning up the dishes from dinner. She had hardly touched her food during dinner, just pushing peas around with her fork. Getting up to fetch beers for Adam multiple times. He had eaten his food and had mumbled a thanks. She had just stayed hunched over, her hands in her lap.
Her appearance had gone even further down hill. She still wore the apron, but now it was smudged and dirty. She asked for some money to buy a new one, but Adam had exploded about it, screaming that it was his money. Her eyes had pushed back even further in to her head, with deep dark lines surrounding them. Her lips were dry and cracked, but smattered with lipstick. Adam insisted on her still using make-up and she had obliged. Her freckles all but gone under a pasty skin color.
Quickly, now she rushed from the kitchen to the bathroom. She entered to find him sitting on the toilet but the lid was down. He was holding some thing between a pair of tweezers and he looked pretty infuriated by it.
“What the fuck is this?” He held it up even further for her to see. She hardly dared look, but did any way. It was a small pubic hair. Most likely one of her own, or his. She had not cleaned the bathroom that day, too busy with the rest of the house and the slowly waning energy.
“Its a pubic hair.” She replied carefully. If she stayed silent it only would have made matters worse.
“Who's is it Charlotte? You been fucking your lover in here? Who is he Charlotte? Who is he? Your cheating on me and I knew it, Charlotte” He seemed to taunt from the porcelain throne.
“I don't have any lovers Adam. Your delusional” She replied quietly looking down, not daring to make eye contact.
Unfortunately, she had said the wrong thing. Adam rose slowly, placing the tweezers and pubic hair evidence in the sink. “You said what?” He leaned against the wall and leered in to her face.
“I ... I'm sorry Adam. It was a slip of the tongue. I love you” The last part of the sentence was forced. How could she still love him after all that had happened.
“No you don't Charlotte. Your fucking another man. How could you love me when your enjoying another man's dick!” He leaned even further closer, forcing Charlotte to lean further back.
“I'm sorry” She was on the verge of crying. Her voice breaking and tears blurring her vision.
“WHAT do I keep telling you Charlotte! SORRY isn't good enough” As he said this he clenched his fist and brought it down across her face. It was a swift movement and it seemed to shock Adam, who stood still for a few seconds looking at his wife. He moved out of the bathroom instead of staying to apologize or see if she was alright. He stormed out of the apartment. She knew where he would be.
Charlotte had taken the full blow of the punch. Feeling the crunch of her cheekbone, the rush of blood and then the swirling head. The blow had knocked her head, forcing her body to swing and hit against the wall. She did not fall over but she did yelp in pain, her legs beginning to shake. The sudden shock of it all swimming around in her thoughts. Her hands reached up to feel the swelling and check for any breaks. She did not hear the door slam this time, the ringing in her ears drowned that out.
She knew she had to stop some of the swelling with an ice pack. As she turned to walk out of the bathroom she caught herself in the mirror. Her nose dripped with hot sticky blood. The swelling had already started, forcing one of her eyes to squint. Her cheek bright red and obviously painful. She could not look at herself, quickly looking down and away.
* * *
October 8th Dear Diary
I went grocery shopping today. Had to hide most of my body. Lucky its cold out – wore my turtle neck sweater. People couldn't see the bruises. Kept looking down for most of the time. Afraid to show my face. Almost afraid to leave the house ... but I have too for him. Had to get food and beer for him. I love him. I do. Woman at the shops saw me ... she saw the bruise above my eye. She tried to tell me I could get help. That there was help out there. That I didn't need to live like this. She had bruises too. She looked like she understood. I pushed her away and ran from the shop. I should have talked too her, but I was too scared. If I get help he'll kill me. That much I'm sure of. There really is no way out. Maybe I'll go back to the shop tomorrow, see if she's there again.
* * *
Its about four in the afternoon. Adam doesn't get home for another two hours. Charlotte had done most of the cleaning. Done her usual activities for a Tuesday. Cleaned kitchen top to bottom, the roast was slowly cooking, washing had been folded, carpet was vacuumed.
Today was different however. Today she'd had done enough. This was the day she would move forwards. She was going to leave him.
She'd sorted out all of the bills, sent the pet to a animal home, given instructions to a neighbor about where to contact her. It was all set. She would leave. No more being pushed about. No more being a piece of meat to her man. She still loved him of course, but he would no longer keep her caged like a bird. It was like a weight had been taken from her shoulders. She would leave this World of hate and punishment. To live again.
Now she was running a nice hot bath. She wanted to be clean before leaving. She'd used all sorts of smelly potions, causing a pink foam to settle on the top of the water. Steam rising and filling the room. The mirror was covered with a pillow case. She did not want to see her reflection. Every time Adam left for work she would cover it and then uncover it just before he got home.
Charlotte walked in, wearing a long purple bathrobe. She leaned over and turned off the taps, babbling her fingers in to the warm soothing water. It was the perfect temperature. With her toe, she pushed play on the CD she had set up. It filled the room with soothing music. She dropped the robe, which crumpled too the floor. She took no notice of the black and blue pattern covering her ribs and neck, nor of the swelling on her shoulder. It no longer mattered.
Carefully and dainty she stepped in to the bath and sunk in to the hot water. It covered her body, making her skin a little more pink than normal, due to the heat. She let out a sigh of relief and relaxation. It had been a long time since she'd been able to relax.
For a while she hummed along to the music. It brought back fond memories of her and Adam as children. Always play fighting in her mothers garden. He would make her mud-cakes and she would bring him pretty flowers. The first time they had kissed, their first date, the prom, their first home together. All the happy memories now drifted to her peacefully.
After ten minutes the water began to grow cold. She sat up and reached over the side of the bath. Her prune fingertips grasping a kitchen knife. She smiled at it, almost cradling it like a baby. She sat there for a second, just thinking about her actions. Adam would come home and find her. His heart would break, just as he broke hers. The thought caused her pain and happiness.
“I love you Adam. Always have, always will.”
With that said she took the knife and ran it down her wrist, leaving a small trail of blood. That small trail gradually grew in to a river. It poured in to the bath, diluting the water from a pretty pink to a morbid red. At first Charlotte gasped at the pain but then she relaxed in to it, leaning back in the bath. It would not take long. She would live again, elsewhere. She would no longer be his puppet. She smiled, her face relaxing.
Charlotte's thoughts became cloudy, the music drifting in and out. Her senses dulled, the water no longer feeling hot or cold, just heavy. Her muscles easing and no longer holding themselves afloat. Her eyesight floated across the bathroom, watching the bubbles rise and fall. Until she finally closed her eyes. Floating away like the bubbles.
