This is purely fictional and I am in no way a violent person. This is merely the result of me channelling my emotion into my writing and this was the end product. Yes, I was very angry at the time. But, when you're unhappyily married to an alcoholic and feeling like you have no way out and no one to talk to it does things to you. Thankfully, I have separated from my husband and I am happier and healthier.
There is always a way out and always hope, its just hard to see sometimes through the pain.
"You know.." I spat, glaring down my arm at him as I shoved him roughly in the side of his head. "I should just do it..Just fucking do it!"
Bound and gagged he looked up at me pleadingly, tears draining from the one good eye that wasn't swollen shut. I had no mercy for him. Not one fucking ounce and even if I did..he didn't fuckin deserve it. Not after everything he'd put me though.
"But, if I did then you'd win..and I fucking refuse to let that happen. Bastard!" I growled, poking him hard with the barrel.
He was scared and I fucking loved it! Fucking loved for once not being the one cowering in fear. He was the one trembling with uncertainty at what he thought I might do. I knew what he was thinking too. This crazy bitch is gonna kill me. I did want to kill him, badly. Press the barrel flush against his sweat covered temple and pull the trigger, blasting his brains and blood across the room.
Sure, he'd be dead. No longer able to inflict himself on me anymore, but then he'd win. I'd be carted off to jail for the rest of my days and with my fucked up luck I'd get shacked up with some cunt that was into fisting or worse. I maybe into some kinky shit, but even I had my limits.
"You know sometimes..I wish you HAD laid a hand on me. Scars, bruises, broken bones..they heal, but not what you've done to me!"
Slowly I circled him, kicking at a random leg of the chair as I looked him, waving my weapon in the air as I went on. "I used to think I was cute. Pretty even, but now..I just see someone who isn't worthy of any decent guy out there. I'm royally and thoroughly fucked for the rest of my life and its..its all because of you!"
Stopping in front of him I lunged forward, grabbing him by the scruff of his shirt as I looked at him. "You see this?" I asked, giving him a close look at the gun. "You think its real..don't you?"
He nodded furiously in response.
I stood quickly pushing off him, turning the gun back and forth in my hand. "It could be, but you'll just have to wait and see."
With his eyes he begged as he attempted to speak through the gag, but all it sounded like was a muffled 'I'm sorry'.
"Sorry? You're fucking sorry! Its too fucking late to be motherfucking sorry, you asshole! There's absolutely nothing you could fucking say that would change my mind about you!"
5 years. 5 fucking long years of being unhappy, unappreciated and unsatisfied and I'd had enough. I was sick and tired of pretending to be motherfucking suzie homemaker to a chain smoking, alcoholic who emotionally abused me. I don't know when I broke, but I finally did.
Turning my back on him, I stood there staring at the concrete floor of the room deep in thought for a moment. My bags were packed, my flight was booked. All that was left was to tie up this loose end and then I could start my new life in London. Taking a deep breath, I pulled a dirty bandana and a small bottle of Chloroform from my pocket. Shoving the gun in my back pocket, I poured just enough into the bandana to knock him out for a bit.
"This is the last time you're ever going to see me." I said before thrusting the bandana into his face and watching as he passed out.
Out cold he slumped over in the seat as I untied him before moving him to the floor. I undid the gag and placed a cell phone just within his reach. Taking one last look, I lit a cigarette aimed at his head and pulled the trigger watching as a thin stream of water bounced off the floor next to him. Its amazing the things you can find on the internet these days. Tossing it to the floor, I turned on my heel and left. I win, motherfucker.