Note: Re-written. Originally had a happy ending, but that didn't read right...lol. I really loved Curley's Wife in the book, and thought she was too under-rated for my liking. Ah well.
I was waiting up for Curley. He said he was gonna check on the ranch workers before calling it a night and coming to bed. My hair tumbled around my shoulders as I bent my head, watching Curley walk painfully slowly back to the house. The moonlight shone on the ranch, allowing me to watch Curley cross the field with his head high and shoulders back. He was cute looking, I'd give him that. He could give me most anything I wanted. He could hold a job and wasn't tight for money. He knew how to please a woman, too. But I didn't love him. I never loved him. Heck, I only married him 'cause my mama wanted me to. I guess I went along with it because I knew that I wasn't going to do anything else with my life. I'd missed my chance to be a big movie star and this was the only thing I could do to make my old man proud. Marry a decent fella who could look after me proper. That was the idea.
Curley swaggered into our room, grinning like a fool. He made such a racket that he gave me a fright and my head turned so quick it almost snapped. He looked like a cat that had just had the cream and was going back for seconds. I didn't like that look; it was too cocky. Far too cocky. Who did Curley think I was: one of the girls in the cat house? I shot away from the window and tucked myself in a tight ball under the blankets, looking away from Curley. He didn't seem to get the message and curled up next to me, wrapping his arm possessively around my middle. His touch, even though it was separated with quite a few pieces of material, made me shudder in disgust. My husband repulsed me.
I shuffled away from him. Curley swore loudly, sounding awful angry. It kind of scared me, actually and my body tensed up automatically.
"What's wrong with you tonight? Usually you can't get enough of me," he fumed. Without even looking at him I could tell that his face was red. It always went that colour when he showed the least bit of emotion – it was one of his many flaws. I forced myself not to look at him, gripping tightly to the blankets around me for comfort. I was afraid that if he got really mad then he would hurt me. He did use to be a professional boxer, after all and there wasn't exactly a law that stopped a man from beating his wife around a little.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you, woman!" Curley yelled. I slowly rolled over and faced him, knowing I couldn't ignore him for much longer. He was on his knees with his face was towering above my own. I felt even more vulnerable. A vein stuck out of his neck, Curley was so mad at me. I didn't understand what he had to be mad at, just 'cause I wanted to go straight to sleep that night.
"Well?" Curley demanded. "Out with it then. What the hell is wrong with you?" He shook me then – grabbed me by my shoulders and shook me violently, his fingers digging into me. His eyes were wild with fury and his big strong hands gripped me like a vice. My heart was hammering against my chest as I looked up into the eyes of a mad man. Curley ran out of patience and slapped me across my face. I fell on to the bed, my cheek smarting. My head snapped back up and I glared at him: all my fear had been changed into anger. How dare he treat me that way!
"Nothing's wrong with me – but there sure as hell something wrong with you," I yelled back. Curley looked surprised that I had spoken to him in such a way, of which I was glad of. It was about time someone started talking back to the arrogant fool. Curley was still holding his angry expression and if I wasn't mistaken, it became angrier. I began to get worried. He wouldn't really hurt me, would he? I wasn't sure.
Without warning, Curley got out of our bed, facing the wall with his head down. Now I was confused. What was going on? I didn't have to wait too long to find out. Curley picked up a nearby plant pot and threw it in my direction. I squeezed my eyes shut and screamed but luckily it missed, smashing loudly against the wall next to me. I stared at Curley, too stunned to speak. He really hated me right now – and for what? For shouting at him? For telling him something that was true? I scrambled for my robe and put it on over my nightdress. I hastily slipped my bedroom slippers on my feet before storming out of the room, down the stairs, through the living room and outside.
It was chillier than I had anticipated so I wrapped my robe tighter around me, hugging my arms. It was quiet outside though: it was a place where I could actually hear myself think. Unlike during the day, there was no-one walking around, no-one to talk to. At least it was peaceful out here. I looked up at the sky and saw the stars, twinkling happily back at me. They were so lucky. They were only stars; they had nothing to worry about. After ensuring there was no-one around to see me, I shut my eyes firmly and made a wish.
A rough hand on my shoulder caused me to jump out of my skin and when I turned to face the person, I wasn't exactly over the moon to discover that Curley had followed me. His face was still as sour as a lemon; I frowned at him.
"Look, woman. Come back to bed, alright?" he ordered. I gave him a dirty look.
"I'll go back when I'm good and ready." With blinding speed, Curley's hand shot out and grabbed my wrist, twisting it. I gasped in surprise and with pain. Curley scarcely spared me a second look as he dragged me in the direction of our house and only let go when I started screaming. He yanked on my arm and I fell into the dirt heavily. Curley spat on the ground next to me.
"Never talk to me like that again, you hear?" he growled menacingly. I glared defiantly but didn't utter a word. "You're my wife and you'll treat me with respect, dammit!" My eyes locked on to Curley's as I spoke the words I had been longing to say for a long time.
"I hate you." Curley froze, his body stiff. I was at least glad I had managed to get him to shut up for once. That was some small triumph at least. Still, it didn't last long. All good things come to an end.
"I don't give a rat's arse. Now get inside woman before I hurt you so bad you'll be hollering until next week." I could see from his expression that Curley was deadly serious. I didn't want to test him and find out one way or the other, so rushed to get to my feet and sprint inside. Checking over my shoulder, I saw that Curley was a good few paces behind and an idea came to me. It wasn't a great one but it was all I had time for. I raced up the stairs, realising only then that I had lost one of my slippers in the scuffle outside. Hands shaking, I was able to let myself into our bathroom and lock the door behind me. I leaned on the dark brown wood, breathing a sigh of relief. Safe at last.
Bang. Bang. Bang. Curley was trying to get in! I leaned more heavily against the door, praying that the lock didn't give out. Curley shouted abuse through the wood and I did my best to block it out. A sob escaped my throat. Tears streamed down my cheeks. I slid down to the floor and rested my head on my knees. Was it too much to wish for a decent life: one without fear and violence and loneliness? I just couldn't live like this any more. It was too stressful for me. I had to get out somehow. Whether that was me leaving, or...
Curley's razor lay on the edge of the bathtub, its silver blade glinting in the half-light.
"Open the door, you pathetic excuse for a woman!" Curley hollered. In that final moment, I made my move.