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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #1771370
Kathy is in misery and pain, and an abusive relationship. She can't break this cycle.
Kathy is on her hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floor. It seems like she has been doing this for years. She can't get her misery out of her mind. Her knees ache and her back feels like it is carrying a ton of weight. And her head hurts like hell!



Her mind wanders to a happier time when she was a little girl. She and her brother would swim in the beautiful lake on her parents farm. The cool water would wash away the heat of the day.



She looks up to see her husband, his face twisted in anger. He kicks her in the ribs and she falls over writhing in pain. "You stupid bitch! How long does it take to clean the floor? Get off your lazy ass and finish. Then do the dishes there must be a hundred in the sink!"



Kathy replies "Yes dear." She holds her ribs she is sure one of them is broken, the pain is so intense. But she knows not to complain. She rolls over onto her knees and finishes the floor. Then she starts on the mountain of dishes. She can't get her misery out of her mind. Her hands are raw and bleeding, and her feet are so swollen that she feels they may fall off at any minute. And her head hurts like hell!



Her mind wanders to a happeir time when she was a little girl. When it would rain on her parents farm she would run outside and dance like a fairy. Her brother called her a loon, but her parents would laugh with delight. She loved the smell of fresh rain on the grass and trees.



Kathy feels a blinding pain at the back of her head. She leans over the sink to gather her strength. She turns to see her husband, his face twisted in anger. He has a large frying  pan in his hand. "You stupid bitch!" How long does it take to clean the dishes? Finish, then clean the toilette. It smells like someone took a dump in there!"



Kathy replies "Yes dear." She rubs the back of her head, it has a large lump on it. Her hand is covered in blood. Much more blood than it should have. But she knows not to complain. She finishes the dishes then goes into the bathroom to clean the toilette. She can't get her misery out of her mind. She feels like she is going to vomit the stench is so bad, but holds it back. Her arms are heavy and feel like lead. And her head hurts like hell!



Her mind wanders to a happier time when she was a little girl. It was Christmas morning. She opened a large box to discover the popular doll of the season. She cried and then laughed with joy. She asked her parents how they managed to get this doll, the stores were all sold out. Her Father winked and assured her that he had his connections.



Kathy can't breath. Her head is being held under the filthy toilette water. A hand grabs her hair and roughly pulls her out. She falls to her knees gagging and trying to catch her breath. She looks up to see her husband, his face twisted in anger. "You stupid bitch! How long does it take to clean the toilette? Finish, then vacuum the living room carpet. It looks like someone poured sand all over it!"



Kathy replies "Yes dear". She catches her breath, she now smells as disgusting as the toilette. But she knows not to complain. She continues to clean the toilette.  A thought pops into her mind. 'Keep thinking how much misery and pain I am in. No happy thoughts.' Instead of cleaning the toilette she goes into the bedroom. 'My back hurts so much.' She goes to her husbands dresser and pulls out the bottom drawer. 'And my head hurts like hell!' She removes his handgun and checks it. It is fully loaded.



The thought of freedom makes Kathy smile. A happy thought!



Kathy feels something cold and hard pressed against her temple. "You stupid Bitch! I have two guns!" Kathy sees a bright splash of color, and hears a whooshing sound.



Kathy is on her hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floor. It seems like she has been doing this for years. She can't get her misery out of her mind. Her knees ache and her back feels like it is carrying a ton of weight. And her head hurts like hell!







© Copyright 2011 S. Smothers (yelrihs at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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