Domestic Abuse

I’ve been having a series of nightmares for the past few days, and somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind, this story formed. I didn’t go too graphic here, and I hope I never have to rewrite it to be graphic.

It had been a busy day at the office. I walked in, half-expecting not to see him.

My skin crawled when I saw him the lying in the love seat. I slumped in a chair, keeping as far away from him as possible.

‘Hi,’ I said. He grunted and I saw that look in his eyes. He left his seat and came to sit on the armrest of mine.

I squirmed when he put his hands around me and tried to take off my blouse. I pushed his hands away.

‘It’s that time of the month,’ I said, a hint of annoyance in my voice.

‘Doesn’t matter to me,’ his roving hands were back. I bit hard on my lower lip. ‘You know, I’ve always wanted to try…’

‘Don’t be disgusting,’ I pushed him away, going to sit by the fireplace.

I heard him say ‘bitch’ under his breath as he went to pour himself a drink from the bar. The sound of ice clinking in the glass awakened my thirst but I dared not ask him to get me one. I heard him slurp his drink and I wondered how many times I’d told him it irritated me every time he did that. I heard him walk towards me and lean over me, his hot, fetid breath fanning my neck.

‘Say, honey, you got your paycheck today, didn’t you?’ he said the words I’d been expecting all along.

‘What’s it to you?’ I didn’t expect the words that came out of my mouth.

‘I’d like to borrow two thousand bucks,’ he said in that irritating drawl of his. He always ‘borrowed’ from me, never paying a dime back.

‘I’m sorry Norman,’ I said calmly. ‘You owe me an awful lot. Besides, the money’s mine — I need it.’

‘What!’ he was breathing heavily now. I could feel the moisture of his breath condensing on my neck.

Slowly and deliberately, I swiveled the chair around until I was facing him.

‘It’s over Norman,’ I said quietly. ‘I want you to move out.’

I remembered vividly the first and only time I’d said that. He had looked incredulously at me, then scratched his head and asked, ‘Are you joking?’

‘Of course I am!’ I’d said sarcastically.

The punch had been totally unexpected. When he hit me in the stomach, the wind rushed out of me and I found myself unable to cry as he descended on me. He kicked me everywhere, pulling my hands away and hitting me on the mouth when I tried to cover my face.

‘You bitch!’ he’d screamed, pulling me up by the hair. ‘You love me too much to leave me, you hear?’

‘Let go of me Norman!’ I’d screamed, finally finding my voice.

He hit me again in the mouth, and a tooth, already loose from the first blow fell out. Blood filled my mouth.

‘You love me, you crazy slut, say it!’ he’d shouted.

‘I don’t!’ I’d muttered as well as I could through the coppery, salty taste of blood on my tongue.

‘Say it!’ he hit me again, harder than before. He got his hands around my throat and began to choke me. I was filled with an indescribable fear when I realized he would kill me and have no qualms about it.

‘I love you,’ I’d said weakly, suddenly tired.

‘That’s better,’ he’d said softly, relaxing his grip. ‘Don’t you ever try pulling that stunt again. Now let me have that money.’

In the past few months I learned the meaning of real terror. He asked for anything he wanted and if he didn’t get it, I got a split lip or a black eye — sometimes both.

Tonight was the night. All the pent-up frustration was bubbling to the surface and there was nothing I could do to control it. I was in a disjointed state. I felt like an observer watching him and me. I saw his jaw tighten and his hands bunch up into big fists.

Before he could hit me I was out of my chair and flying across the room. It took him a moment for my flight to register in his mind. He caught me rather easily, dodging my flailing arms and legs as he lifted me off the ground.

When he slapped me, I saw only white as the world dissolved into nothingness. When I came to, he was smiling down at me.

‘You need to know your place, honey,’ he said, leering. He tore off my blouse, then licked his lips appreciatively. He grabbed my right breast roughly and I never felt dirtier in my life as he groped me, talking dirty all the while.

When he leaned over to unfasten the clasps of my bra, I sank my teeth into the flesh of his arm and bit him hard, drawing blood. He screamed and I held on, refusing to let go. He let go of me and I tumbled to the floor, instinctively rolling away from him.

He came after me, swearing. Again, he caught me and lifted me off the ground, shaking me like a doll. I gasped as he held me by the throat and began to throttle me.

Drawing on some inner strength I didn’t know I had, I swung forward and my forehead crashed into his nose. He dropped me.

I picked one of my stiletto heels, wondering if it would be a good weapon. He gave me no time to think. When he charged me, I swung my arm and hit his throat with it.

The next few moments went by in slow motion. I watched in horror as the heel of my shoe sank into his throat, driven by the force of my anger and humiliation. He swayed drunkenly, a look of disbelief on his face as he tried to pull it out. He dropped to his knees, then toppled to the floor. I remember thinking not about him, but that my carpet was going to be ruined. I went to the phone and dialed 911.

The police arrived ten minutes later. They found me sitting on the floor, holding the stiff body of the man I’d once loved in my arms.

Comments

  1. Chxta says:

    Okay, what inspired you?

  2. Nilla says:

    Interesting…sad, but interesting.

  3. your writing’s getting better man…. a toast to the stilleto….

  4. Azuka says:

    Chxta
    The nightmares, I guess…

    Nilla
    True…

    Nikita
    I hope my writing gets better. I haven’t really gotten any better — I’ve only realized how important it is to revise any drafts I write before putting them on the web. Usually, I’d type them in, hit submit and forget about them.

    Thanks. Do you now see why I think high heels are evil? Ha ha.

  5. zzzz says:

    wow! very well written. felt the poem mhen, see me moving here and there on my seat. LOL. A nice advice tho, pls purge ya mind o. Read your Bible.

  6. Afropinay says:

    I’ll read it tomorrow first thing in the morning..:D

    *links spillage* lol lol.. sorry ive been real busy.

  7. biodun says:

    Wow, u r good, that felt so real n its sad cos some women hav actually gone thru that n worse.

  8. Vickii says:

    Hey, this is a great piece of writing, very vivid and well written! And I’m very impressed with your ability to put yourself in her shoes … well done!

  9. Keshi says:

    whoaaa great write-up! So much of action, drama and suspense πŸ™‚

    Keshi.

  10. uzo says:

    Oh wow….This is pretty intense stuff….Good job

  11. belle says:

    daaang…intense! very well written..

  12. about high heels, well, thats what makes it all the more interesting…

    oh, and its doubtful that a heel can actually puncture a neck like that. it would have to be too thin to properly walk on, or too thick to cut (it would certainly bruise though)

    and what’s up with this required number confirmation? enter 9a65 here (required)… the hell should i enter it if you already have it??? not like you’re gonna get automated spam here anyway…

  13. christabelle says:

    Merry christmas Azuka!!
    God’s blessings this season.

    DO take care.

  14. Vera Ezimora says:

    So….are you saying that this is what you have been dreaming about me? I dunno how to take this Azuka. I mean, we hardly know each other!

    LOL.

    Boy, it’s a nice story!!! You ought 2 finish it…or rather continue it. Good stuff…!

  15. Jem says:

    Azuka, Merry Christmas dear,

    yea … the truth is that many women are still going thru things like this in this early day and age but lack the voice and wherewithal to let it out. Nice story with a very good moraleven though its fiction. Women need to be more assertive to say NO and be firm about it.

  16. You can go commercial with this writing style….Ever considered it?

  17. Azuka says:

    Zzzz
    Thanks for feeling it. There’s nothing purgable in my mind at the moment.

    Temmy tayo, Keshi
    I’m glad you loved it.

    Afropinay
    Take your time oh, or I’ll edit your address to point to yansh.com.ng!

    Vickii
    Wow, I must be getting better. You know, I was discussing with Nikita about writing from a feminine standpoint. Men hardly understand women, and vice versa. As I joked, I’d take a man’s standpoint and do things just the other way round, throw in some crying, and I’d be good to go. I didn’t do any of that here :-P.

  18. Azuka says:

    Calabar Gal, Uzo,Belle
    Thanks, thanks, thanks. 😳

    Nikita
    I always throw in the unbelievable into my stories and some people say it still manages to fit in. Do you remember The Jinn? There’s no way you can ride a running camel up a sand dune and still be able to swing a sword arm. The other guys had the advantage of height.

    I try to deal with things I fear in my writing. Girlfriend-beating is one of the most despicable acts I can think of. The stiletto was well, based on something that happened to me. Back in Nigeria while waiting for a bus, a prostitute in super-sharp heels stepped on one of my toes. It throbbed for weeks. I’ve always hated anything high on women ever since.

    Vera, Vera,

    Take your time oh! OF course if I’m going to dream about you they’ll only be nightmares. It’s finished as it is. Several of my readers have told me I always like to leave the ending uncertain.

    Jem, Biodun,
    I know! I cringe every time I hear of one of these incidents. I absolutely detest violence, though. I hate seeing a girl slap a guy for cheating on her. If the roles were reversed, the blame would be on the guy. If a girl ever slapped me over any incident, I’m not sure I won’t give her one back, but I’m sure that’ll be the end of the relationship.

    Christabelle
    Same to you dear…

    In my head and around me
    I did once, when I was younger, but I think I’ll stick to writing as a form of self-expression.

  19. well, the jinn thing is believable… its doable, considering that in the days before tv and internet, people were actually STRONG since they had nothing else to do but run around and do physical stuff……

    and like i said, it would bruise, but not puncture… what happened to you? a bruise…. shoulda smacked that suka though, woman or not i dont care, if you provoke you get smacked….. or am i missing half the story here?

  20. Azuka says:

    Nikita
    The way it works, the other people at the bus stop [who were ogling her, by the way] would have descended on me.

  21. Nice post,
    GOOD STORY.

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