The Perfect Wife
She knew he didn't mean to. He never meant to do it. He just got so angry sometimes. And it was her fault. She should know better than to upset him. If she would just try harder, be a better wife, he wouldn't have to hurt her. He was only teaching her lessons. She was just too idiotic to understand them. It was all for her benefit. Because he loved her, she just knew it. And she loved him, too.
So she kept their house spotless. She cooked his favorite foods every day, and had his hot meal on the table when he came home from work. She kept Ursa, their baby girl, contented and quiet while he was sleeping. She did everything he wanted, anything to keep him happy. She was the perfect wife.
But perfection is a fleeting illusion. It never lasts very long.
He came home one day to burnt moose-lion steaks.
"Sweetie?" He asked icily calm, "Why is my steak burnt?"
"Zuko, I'm so sorry," she begged, terrified of his uncontrolled anger that always got the better of him. "Ursa was crying and I had to take care of her and thenthe stovewasgoingoffandicouldn'tgettoitintimeto-"
"Because, you know what Katara? I don't like my food burnt."
"Z-zu-zuko, I'm ssso-"
"How stupid are you Katara? How hard is it to make a decent meal?"
"Zuko I-"
"No Kat. You don't." Zuko grabbed her arm. "You don't." His already tight grip constricted. "I come home from working all day to support you- because you are obviously too fucking incompetent to get a job- and all I ask is that the house be in order and a decent meal. And You DON'T DO THAT!" Smack!
"Zuko pl-pl-please-"
"YOU DON'T!" Smack!
"Baby," sniffle, "You're hurting-"
"BECAUSE YOU'RE TOO FUCKING STUPID! YOU CAN'T DO SHIT!" Smack!
"Zuko, I-"
This time he was nice. He only kicked her three times. Usually it was five or six, or when she really messed up, eight to ten.
"Maybe he's forgiven me for my mistake," Katara thought.
"Get out of my sight, whore."
"I'm so sor-"
"I said "GET OUT OF MY SIGHT, WHORE!""
Katara slunk out of the kitchen into Ursa's room. "Hey sweetie," she cooed. "How's Momma's favorite girl?"
"Dada," Ursa said. She still refused to say momma. She was a daddy's girl all the way.
"Not right now, baby. Daddy's not very happy at the moment." Katara said quietly, hoping he wouldn't hear.
"I'm going to the bar," Zuko yelled from by the front door. "We will talk more when I get home, Kat."
After hearing the door slam, Katara walked back into the kitchen, sank to the floor and cried softly, so she wouldn't upset Ursa. When would she ever learn? It was her fault for being so incompetent. If she was a better wife, he wouldn't have to keep teaching her lessons. He only did it so she would get better. Just like her father.
Katara knew she could do better, so she would. Wiping away her tears, she picked herself up off the floor, and started making a schedule so she would stay on track tomorrow. She would be the perfect wife if it killed her.