She doesn't know how it got to this point...well she knows how. Mistake after mistake after mistake is how. She'd always been good at screwing up. But it had all been so gradual until she was in too deep. And it would have been okay. She would have accepted this as her fate. But she wasn't in this whirlpool alone. There were two children and she couldn't tread water and keep them afloat at the same time and she'd be damned if she'd let them get sucked into the dark depths of the raging current that pulled her down everyday.
She wanted out. But it wasn't as easy as that.
But today was different. Today was the beginning of the end. Not that she knew it then.
When she later looks back she can't pinpoint why it was so different. It hadn't been exceptionally different in terms of her life at that moment. But something had led her to make that decision. Maybe it was the single, silent tear that she'd watched race down her eight year olds face, a sadness in the little girl's eyes that no child should be able to comprehend.
It didn't really matter what it was. She'd made a decision. She'd not made a decision in a long time. Not one that had stuck anyway. But today she made a decision.
A decision to die.
To end it once and for all...
'Oh I'm sorry Miss, here let me help you with that' It's early Monday morning. The weekend was uneventful and it's that eerie calmness that always convinces her things aren't so bad, it cocoons her in a false sense of security. But it always comes crashing down.
She hastily takes a step back as the postman walks through the threshold to her house and gathers the mail she's just dropped.
'Th-thank you' She croaks as he holds out the crumpled envelopes to her. She thought it would be Katie from church, walking the dog. She quite often popped her head in on her morning walk. She knows it's under her husband's duress. Katie is a good influence. She's a good girl. She knows how to be a good housewife. She'd not have opened the door if she'd known it wasn't the mentor in good behaviour.
'You're welcome. So I just need you to sign here for the parcel' He holds out the electronic key pad and her hand wobbles as she quickly scrawls her initials in the box.
'Thank you'
He smiles. 'Have a nice day Miss' And then he's back out the door and walking down the path and the door bangs loudly as she tries to get it closed quickly.
'You two go upstairs' Her eyes close tight as his bark sounds from the back room and her body stiffens, her stomach sinking. She wasn't quiet enough. Wasn't quick enough. Was too fucking jittery and clumsy. He's heard. He's seen.
'But-' Young voices start to complain as she bravely walks into the living room.
'Baby take your sister' She cuts off her eldest daughter's objection, turning to face the scene. The child knows by her look, senses it's of vital importance and then she's hauling the smaller blonde infant to her feet and away from her dolls to the stairs. They leave in silence and her eyes want to follow them but they don't, they guardedly stay fixated on the angry dark blue pair.
'You're teaching her to talk back to me' He states.
'She's eight years old- nearly nine. Kids talk back sometimes. She has her own opinions. She's just voicing them' She bites her tongue. She can't not defend her children. She won't. He can teach her to be a lot of things but she'll never learn that lesson. Because her love for those two children is unconditional.
He snatches the envelopes in her hands and she instinctively takes a step back.
And she knows instantly that they're done talking about the little girl in question.
Because he doesn't approve of her talking to other men. He sees it as her being flirtatious.
'I thought it was Katie. I didn't know...He just gave me the post Ian' His eyes have changed and she starts speaking quickly. She knows she's only got a few moments to make this better. 'He was just giving me the post. I didn't do anyth-'
It doesn't matter how many times it happens it still shocks her. Still takes her by surprise. Every time.
He strikes her. Hand hitting the side of her face and it's enough to send her small form flying backwards.
A strangled cry escapes her mouth as her back hits the corner of the side table and then she crumbles.
She's shaking.
She's stopped wondering why her. Stopped wondering what she did that was so terrible to warrant this. It's just the way it is. It is her life. Only this isn't her. None of this is her.
He sends a sharp kick to her stomach and she grunts.
But this isn't going to be her life. Not for much longer. The thought flutters through her like always.
'Why do you insist on humiliating me?' She cowers away as he crouches beside her. She doesn't answer. There's never a right answer. 'You're in a strop now aren't you? Do you think I enjoy doing this Peyton?'
Her watery eyes blink up at him and his saddened expression has anger bubbling inside her. 'God no, that would make you a monster wouldn't it?' She rasps.
His stare narrows.
She knows she's provoking him. She can't help it. Not when he says things like that. There's still a bit of fight in her yet apparently.
His hand tangles in her hair and jerks her head up to look at him. 'You're my wife. You're mine-'
'I'm fucking aware' She's not sure what's gotten into her. She knows she's playing with fire.
'Don't talk to me like that' He seethes. 'If you're so aware, why do you act like a slut? Hm? You can't help yourself can you? You have to flirt with every man that looks in your direction! Even under my own fucking roof'
'He was the fucking postman! I didn't do anything'
'I said don't speak like that' He grips her face, fingers squeezing her cheeks so she can't speak. There was a time when she would have wriggled free and answered by spitting in his face or throwing another string of curse words out but she knows it's not worth it. She's been trained and she might not always be able to hold her tongue but she knows when enough is enough.
WONDERLANDWONDERLANDWONDERLAND
She looks in the mirror. She's at that age, that age in between the magic and the horrible reality of the world. She wonders if there's anyone in there, behind the reflective glass. She knows there's not. That's just a game. That's imagination. But she still likes to pretend, still sort of believes. Because she'd rather pretend than tune into the screamed words that are sounding from her mother below.
'Addie whatcha' looking at?'
A drawer is pulled out. Little feet clamber up the makeshift steps before a smaller head appears in the shiny silver surface.
'Lex. You're gonna fall' She reaches out, an arm going around her smaller sister to protect her from the short tumble from drawers to floor because this is what she is. She's the protector.
'Whatcha' lookin' at?' The three and a half year old repeats, quizzically searching her reflection.
'The goblins'
'Goblins?' Alexa's brow furrows. She can't see anything.
'Uhuh. You can't see them. They can only see you. They're on the other side'
'No they're not' Her cherub cheeks puff out as she squints into the mirror.
'Uhuh. Are too' Adele disagrees. 'And you have to be good or you'll annoy them. And they're there to protect us so don't be naughty' She wags her finger at the little girl.
A worried look transpires across Alexa's face.
'Don't be frightened. They're warriors. They fight off the monsters under the bed when we're asleep and they keep all the bad things away'
'I thought goblins were mean...they are in somfins'
'Not our ones...and it's a secret so you can't tell anyone' She hoists Alexa off of the drawers and sets her on the ground with a grunt.
It's stopped now; her mother's distressed voice, humming from downstairs.
'What's their names?'
She doesn't miss a beat. 'Carlos. Roland and Cleo'
'Three?'
'Three. One for you. One for me and one for Mummy'
'What about Daddy?'
'Nope' She shakes her head dismissively. Alexa's too little. Not so little that she doesn't get frightened, not so little that she doesn't get upset but she still loves unconditionally, is still accepting of the monster she calls Daddy.
Adele is not so accepting. Knows right and wrong. Has learnt from school, has learnt from TV that it's not okay.
'It's stopped' Alexa points to the door.
'Uhuh'
'Is Mummy okay?' A thumb suddenly creeps into Alexa's mouth and Adele refrains from calling her a baby as she'd normally chant because she sees the worry in the youngsters big green eyes.
'Of course. The Goblins will be down there looking after her now. Here' She tugs the three year old down to the floor and drags a box of horses before her. 'Play with your horses'
'An-du' Alexa demands, thumb obscuring her words.
'When I get back'
A little hand darts out and ensnares her leg as she rises to her feet.
'It's alright. I'm not going down there' She knows she can't go down. Knows her mother will screech at her later if she does that. She just wants to look through the bannister. Just wants to check. 'I'll be right back. I promise'
WONDERLANDWONDERLANDWONDERLAND
Her eyes are shut tight.
Everything is quiet but her ears are ringing. She hopes it disappears quickly. She hates it when she's left with this insistent hum for the whole day; she can't think.
'I'm going to be late now' His voice is a panted exhale. He's exhausted himself.
She opens her eyes. It's over now. She can relax. Only she can't. She doesn't know how. Her stare skitters upwards as it always does and her stomach turns because the little face she has zero desire to see right now is peering down from the landing above that looks over the large open living room. Her daughter. Her baby. And she wants to scream because she doesn't know how many times she's said it. How many times she's ordered that the eight year old never come out of her room if she hears yelling, she's still to be found looking through the railings.
'Go make sure Adele is ready and I'll drop her at school'
She can't take her herself. Not now.
She can feel the bruises forming.
She's trembling but is quick to pull herself to her feet, eager to usher the stubborn child back to her room before he takes note of their audience.
Her legs don't want to cooperate. Bleary eyed she staggers hastily for the stairs.
The humiliation has a lump lodged in the back of her throat that she swallows back.
Just hold it together for a bit longer.
Just a bit longer.
She doesn't speak. Doesn't say a word.
Adele is backed up against the hallway wall by the time she reaches the landing and she grabs the child's hand before hastily venturing to her children's bedroom.
It takes her three attempts to turn the door knob.
And she realises she's been holding her breath when the door clicks safely shut behind them.
'Mummy?' Adele struggles to stop her lip from quivering, her hands wrung together in apprehension.
'It's alright honey' She leans back against the door.
'You're bleeding' Alexa is on her feet. Her favourite horse in hand as she contemplates her mother's appearance.
'I'm okay' She shakes her head and glances in the mirror that hangs on the deep blue wall, noting the trail of blood that's making its way down the side of her face, she wipes at it with her finger but it just smears the line across her cheek. 'It's just a scratch. I just bumped my head on the cupboard door'
The eldest child isn't so foolish as to believe her story and she knows it and it breaks her heart that she can't disguise this from her anymore.
'I'm alright Addie...what have I told you about staying in here with your sister?' She's berating but it's not stern or angry, it's just disappointed.
'I just wanted to check' Adele announces.
Peyton's brow furrows and then she sinks to her knees and grasps Adele's hands tightly. 'You don't need to do that. I'm not going anywhere. Not ever. Okay?' She strokes the little flushed cheeks of her daughter.
Adele isn't convinced.
But there's no time for anymore reassurances right now.
'Quickly. Have you got your school bag packed?'
'Uhuh'
'Good girl. Daddy's going to take you-'
'I don't want to go with him. I want you to take me'
She swallows thickly. 'Me and Lex are going to make cup cakes and when you get home you can help us ice them and then we'll watch the wizard of oz, how does that sound?' She promises.
Alexa jumps up and down gleefully at this plan.
Adele looks at her solemnly. 'Fine'
She kisses her head. 'Be good baby. Please' She pleads.
A silent tear races down Adele's cheek and it kills her. She has to stop herself from swaddling her in arms and kisses and promising her she doesn't have to do anything she doesn't want to. But she doesn't do that. Won't. Because she's not about to risk her child being at the brunt of her husband's anger.
'Okay' Adele's voice is small but strong and that wide eyed determination in her little girl's face will stay with her mother forever and a day.
She watches from the upstairs window as her daughter is driven away and she feels sick. So sick. Self hatred seeps through her veins. She doesn't know how she can sit back and let her get in a car with him. She wonders what kind of Mother she is to let them see this day in day out.
She flees into the closet, numb to her throbbing cheek. Her thoughts are quick and brash and her feet move with the same hastiness. She has a suitcase open on the bed in seconds and items are flung into it.
And then determination and desperation dwindle into a raging combination of fear and uncertainty that have her crumbling at the foot of the bed.
She recalls her last escape. She clings to her arm. He'd broken it that night. And she'd not just been scared of him. She'd feared for her life. Feared what would become of her then four year old daughter that sat in the car. And an hour later as she'd sat in the police station, charged with drink driving and lectured on doing what was right for her daughter, she was reminded insistently on how she were lucky it was her husband that had found her. Lucky that her husband was the law. Lucky to be let off so lightly. Lucky she'd only broke her arm in the crash.
She'd sat silently. Tears relentlessly falling.
And she'd known in that very moment that freeing herself from his lair was near impossible. Because she couldn't run to the law. He was the law. And at every stepping stone there were obstacles built high. Because her word didn't count. Not when confronted with all the documents filed on her. Of that he reminded her. Many times that night as they'd driven home.
She'd not only lost a bit of her soul that night, but her independence too.
She buries her head in the bedsheets and screams. And an hour later her things are back in their rightful places, the suitcase buried once more at the back of the cupboard and she's making cup cakes with her surprisingly happy three year old as promised.
Flowers are delivered by lunch. A predictable message scrawled on the small card. I'm sorry we fought. I love you.
She puts them in a vase, fights the urge to put them straight down the garbage shoot. No that would be asking for trouble.
Just like embarking on an unplanned escape was. She couldn't just escape.
It's at some point in between washing up the aftermath of baking with a three year old and Adele being dropped home from school by another parent that she makes the decision.
She's staring out the window. All you can see are trees. She thought the secluded spot was magical when she first saw it. Now it's a cave of darkness.
She can't run. She's tried running. Wherever she went he'd find her. He'd always find her. She doesn't want to have to live like that. Always on edge. Always moving. Always fearing he'll catch up with them. And if he did... She shudders. No, she can't run. She can't just disappear. She has to disappear in a way that she can never be found. Disappear in a way where he'll never even try to find her...there's only one way... Her green eyes grow wide and unblinking... She has to die... Not just her but her children too.