The ground looks clean. That's her first thought after staring at it for about an hour. She has been lost in a tunnel somewhere deep inside her mind. When she first regains consciousness, she can't help but think about how clean the ground is. She remembers spending hours on her hands and knees just scrubbing the tile clean. She wouldn't stop scrubbing until she was sure she was finished, but every time she would see a stain staring back at her after she had put all her supplies away.
It doesn't make sense, but then again alot of things didn't make sense anymore. How was it that she couldn't see the stains when she was as close to the ground as possible but as soon as she stood up and stepped back, the stain was obviously there the whole time.
The stain was synonymous to her marriage. Years after being with him. He still made her happy, to a fault. He always knew how to take her mind off of her issues but he was the root of all her problems.
From the moment she met him, she knew he was different. She knew that he was going to leave a mark within her soul.
He made her laugh like no one was watching. But they were, and they always claimed them to be the envy of the town for finding each other as young as they did. She agreed. She only ever had eyes for him.
After 2 years of dating they got married. Shotgun wedding was what everyone else called it. Yes, their unborn child was what had catapulted the decision to get married, but she refused to believe that her child was the sole reason for their marriage.
It was a good marriage in the beginning. They split the responsibilities down the middle but somewhere along the way the lines got blurred. He would started staying late at work so she would take over at home. It was ok at first because he always came home with an "I owe you hun" and she knew he was being sincere, or so it seemed.
She honestly can't pinpoint when the change occurred; much less when the abuse started. It creeped up on her. She remembers there being name calling in beginning. When they dated he would criticize alot of what she did but he souls always back it up with an, "I'm just looking out for you." After they married he bossed her around more, claiming he knew best. His best included a heavy dose of violence.
She thought of any possible excuse that explain his sudden attitude change. Maybe he was stressed, maybe she didn't do enough, maybe he wasn't satisfied with what their lives had become, maybe, just maybe. She didn't like it when he got upset so she did everything she could to please him but it was as if the more she did the more angry he got.
The slaps were the worst. She remembers her first time, she stared at him in shock. It was a mistake, she thought. He got caught up in the moment, she thought; caught up in his anger that he did the unthinkable. She waited for an apology or anything that showed his remorse but she found none.
What got to her the most was that she didn't even know what caused his rage. One moment they had been talking about her going back to work and the next he was screaming at her, forbidding her to go back. She had worked at a dance studio before when she'd first met him. They were so young. Just having finished high school.
Her parents told her she was too young to marry, but she didn't see a point in waiting when they were already going to have a child. Jacob, she named him. She claimed that her cat had picked the name out. He just looked at her and told her not to be foolish. Their son was carry on the family name. She argued every leg she could until he relented.
Ironic how the only reason she didn't want to name her son after his father was so that she wouldn't confuse the two but her son is the spitting image of his father. Jacob wasn't anything like his father; he was cautious, curious even. He didn't have the same rage his father had; he was calm.
When the abuse started she did everything she could to shelter him from it and for a long time she succeeded. He saw her bruises and sometimes scratch marks, but she always had a cover up story so as not to alert him. It wasn't until a little while after his first day of kindergarten that he witnessed the violence. She tried to calm him down how do you explain to a child why his father shoved his mother into the wall and continually punched her hip? Even she couldn't understand why.
After she had lulled him to sleep that night she stayed staring at her son for a few minuets. She saw the still damp, tear streaks on his face. They looked just like her own. She hated seeing her son frightened but what could she do? She had to come up with a plan.
Two months later she tried to run away, with child and all. She had no idea what she was doing or where she was going. She refused to go to her parents house, she was embarrassed. How could she allow him to do this to her? That's not how she was raised. She knew her dad and uncles would kill him as soon as they found out the truth. Her mother and sisters would be heartbroken.
She was the one that had did it right; had went by the book. She had the happily ever after. Who was she to destroy that fairytale to her family?
She had only made past the city limits when he caught up with her. She had forgotten that the baby monitor they still used was on. He heard her rustling when she was getting their son. All he did was give her a head start.
After that he became more needy. He would treat her like crap the whole day only to squeeze her tight when they slept. He would harshly grab her chin to kiss her and demanded that she always be within his eyesight.
They hadn't had sex for months, she still had some say in their marriage. At first he didn't say anything about it. She guessed that he knew it was some sort of punishment for how he treated her. But then he did start throwing little comments here and there about how she wouldn't put out.
He became restless, until one day he accused her of cheating. She was positive that he knew that want possible. She was always with him when he wasn't at work and when he was, she wrote in her daily logs about what chores she had accomplished for the day. He checked it every night along with an inspection of what she had completed. She simply didn't have the time to cheat.
He didn't care though. That night he ignored her pleas, he ignored her crying, he ignored her shoves, and he ignored her pain.
That was the final straw. That morning she recorded every bruise, every mark, and every scratch she had. She made sure to hide all documentation in the one place he wouldn't think of finding it, under their son's mattress. Every night as soon as he had fallen asleep, she would document her newest injury.
This went on for a couple months. One day after she had dropped her son off at her mother's house she couldn't shake it off her thoughts, an idea had planted itself in her mind. It was her way out, she couldn't see any other way. She needed to act quick if her plan was to succeed, he was due home from work in an hour.
When she arrived home she tore down some family portraits from the walls. She threw a vase to the ground and watched it shatter to a million pieces on the wooden floor. She dropped some off the books from the bookshelf onto the ground. By the time she was finished the living room was a mess.
She looked at her handy work and with a nod and a sigh, she went to her room and grabbed the gun he kept on the high shelve in the closet. She sat in the kitchen and waited for him. She knew that as soon as he got home he was going to go straight to his comfy chair and watch whatever game was on that day.
He arrived at his regular time and as she had predicted, he went straight to the living room. As soon as he saw the mess he became angry, to say the least. She crept up behind him and called out his name. When he turned, he stepped back in shock once he saw the gun.
She knew that he couldn't believe it. Even after all he's done to her he still couldn't believe that she was pointing a gun at him. She couldn't blame him for that though, after all, even she couldn't believe it. She stared at him for a while. She wanted to shoot him, she really did, but she couldn't do it.
She lowered the gun and as soon as he realized that she wasn't going to fire, he lunged at her. He grabbed her by the hair with one hand as the other snatched the gun from her hands. He threw it onto the couch and proceeded to slap her with all his might.
This time was different from the rest, instead of cowardly trying to get away from him, she fought back. Her hands reached for his face and she raked her nails down his face. She dug them into his eye sockets just for good measure. At that he let her go and covered his face with his hands. She took that moment to punch him in his stomach with all her might. With a grunt he clutched his stomach.
He was furious now. He swung at her, but that was to be expected, so when he did she took a step back. She smacked his arm away and punched his nose. She didn't know where all the energy had come from, perhaps it was all the pent up anger, whatever it was she didn't question it. She felt numb, she knew her hands were gonna hurt the next morning but for the time being she basked in being immune to pain.
She started grabbing anything within reach and hurled it at him. He wasn't deterred, he went straight for her. He had her trapped between his arms. He ran straight into the wall with her as his shield. She weakened. Seeing his opportunity to attack he took her neck between his hands. He was heaving, she was too weak to fight back. He squeezed, all his strength went into his hands.
Never taking her eyes off his, she felt the night wind blow through the window. She didn't know how it was possible, maybe his hands had loosened up a bit or something but as soon as the chilly air kissed her skin she inhaled. It was as if nature was on her side, it was feeding her energy.
With renewed vigor, she kneed him where she'd knew it hurt. She kneed him once enough to get him to let go of her then a second time to drop him to the ground. She was ready. She looked around until she found what she needed. The fun was right where he'd thrown it earlier.
She turned to aim it at him but he want on the ground anymore. from behind her he tried to snatch the gun away but she heels on to out. They both struggled for the gun that was now stop of their heads. She stomped on his foot to no avail as he refused to let go.
He pulled one way and she pulled the other. The gun was now between them. then finally a shot was heard. They both stopped their movement. Both sets of eyes went wide with shock. Never breaking eye contact, he slid to the ground.
She slides down with him, and holds him. After everything, she couldn't let him die. She stares at the wooden floor as they wait for an ambulance. Even with all the crap that's thrown on the ground, the wood is still clean. There's no visible stains. Since they've moved into the house she's had to scrub strain after strain off the floor but today it's clean.
Since he was the one shot, she was arrested but released on bail when he regained consciousness. She hadn't seen him since that day he was shot. She had gone back to the house to get all her and her son's belongings but he was still in the hospital. The first day of trial she was speechless to say the least when she sat him roll in on a wheelchair. He avoided her eyes at all cost. Acting as if he didn't know her.
It was confirmed during the trial that he was to never walk again. It was used against her. He told the truth about what happened that day. She tried to kill him. He even admitted to some abuse he inflicted on her, all in hopes that she get a sentencing.
Her attorneys wouldn't allow it. They showed every evidence she had documented. Said that the day of the shooting was just like any other but with the addition of a gun, which to some extent, was true. The jury bought it.
She was a free woman.