Emily backed away from Bill like she was social distancing. He advanced toward her, sand falling off him. "Bill, honey, it was just a prank. I didn't mean anything by it." Emily squeaked, keeping her distance. Bill bared his teeth as he kept advancing towards her. "Please calm down, I'm sorry!" She tried again. She screamed as she fell backwards, having tripped over the very thing that kept her tethered there. She landed with a loud smack.
Bill pounced on her, grabbing a fistful of her hair, glaring at her as she writhed beneath him. All he could see was red. He let go of her hair and wrapped his hands around her throat and squeezed. Emily tried in vain to peel his hands off, black spots filled her vision as she struggled to get a breath. "You're life is in my hands." Bill snarled, mere inches from her face. Emily slapped at his face, her strength fading. Bill held on for a few more seconds before releasing her. She gasped and coughed. Her head ached. "You better fucking respect me." He warned.
Bill got off of her and left her on the floor. He got a beer and came back, upset she was still on the floor where he left her. Emily curled up into the fetal position, shaking. Didn't he know or care that all this stress and trauma was bad for the child? Emily wrapped her arms around her midsection. She blew it. Tears spilled down her cheeks what was she to do now? Bill glared at her, annoyed she was still on the floor. "Pick yourself up, woman." He spat, sloshing his beer. Emily was afraid to look up. He hadn't bothered to get dressed. "Get up." He snarled as he pulled her up by her hair. Emily shrieked and scrambled to her feet, her scalp screaming. He let go, a few strands of hairs wrapped around his fingers. Emily stared at him in terror. He took a passive aggressive sip of his drink. "You're like that good for nothing ex-wife of mine." He sneered, denting his can. Emily sobbed in terror, ready to flee.
"Stop your fucking crying before I really make you cry!" Bill screamed, his face beet red, the vein on his forehead bulging. Emily choked on her own spit and scrabbled to the guest room, slamming the door behind herself. Bill stomped after her, spitting curses.
"You're on thin fucking ice, bitch!" He yelled belligerently, pounding on the door. Emily threw her weight into the door to try to keep it shut. He managed to force it open, like his old football glory days. Emily made unintelligible sounds of terror as she backed away from him. "You just love pushing my buttons. Love pissing me off." Bill snarled in her face. Emily dropped to the floor and curled into a fetal position. He scoffed in disgust before leaving the room, slamming the door so hard it bounced back open.
Emily sobbed quietly on the floor, too afraid to move. "I hate my life." She cried.
"Get in here woman!" Bill barked a few minutes later. Emily couldn't find the strength to make her body get up. She cried there pitifully. Bill stomped back into the room to find her still on the floor. "Get up!" He yelled and yanked her up by her arm. She curled in on herself. "What are you scared of me?" He sneered. Emily didn't respond. Bill shook his head and dragged her to the kitchen. He roughly pushed her down in a chair he had pulled out for her. He began ripping the brush through her severely tangled hair. She hissed and winced as he tore through her hair. She heard several strands snapping with each stroke of the brush. Tears fell down her face as she eyed the scissors a couple feet away from her.
Bill managed to rip a few tangled balls of hair out, he threw them on the floor. He picked up the scissors and cut haphazardly close to her scalp. She felt him tugging large chunks of her hair and the sound of the snipping. She sobbed, feeling helpless. "Why are you crying? You don't even take care of it." Bill sneered. He roughly turned her head in different angles before grabbing the clippers. He turned them on, the sound startling Emily. She braced herself. She flinched when the met her scalp. It felt so alien to her. She quieted, accepting it numbly, her head throbbing.
Ten minutes later he was done. Bill inspected his work, once satisfied he shoved her out of the chair. "Clean up your mess." He snapped as he went to grab another beer.
Emily scooped up the hair with her hands and threw it away. She touched her head, it was sandpapery. "You look like a fucking dyke." He slurred.
Emily said nothing as she kept rubbing her scalp, it was a strange new sensation. She felt colder too. At least now he couldn't yank her around by her hair anymore.
"Sorry for being a burden to you, Bill." She whispered quietly.
Bill scoffed and rolled his eyes.
"I love my new haircut, thank you." She said with a dead smile.
Bill clenched his jaw. "You're not supposed to like it!"
"I know, dear." She said hollowly.
