Irene sat at the kitchen table, intently writing in a notebook. The
table was strewn with scraps of paper, pens, and envelopes.
"The famous author is at it again," Alexander mocked as he leaned against the refrigerator.
She smiled. "It's in my blood, honey. Maybe someday I'll be published. In fact, I know I will be."
"All I can see is a waste of my hard-earned money, Irene." He pulled up a chair and sat down across from her. "So what do you write about, anyway?"
Irene set her pen down. "You've never seemed interested before," she said, surprised at what appeared to be his general interest in her activities.
"I didn't say I was interested. Just curious."
She looked at her husband. He was so handsome. She wanted so much to be able to truly share with him. He was handsome even now, wearing an old, paint stained shirt and faded jeans. His feet were bare. "I can't explain it too well. Mostly I write about my feelings. Sometimes my feelings pour out on paper and release all of the frustration of life. The difference is that I can control my characters and they can have the most wonderful lives and all of their dreams fulfilled."
His eyes narrowed. "Are you saying that your life isn't satisfying to you?"
She noticed the disapproval in his eyes as he swept over her makeup- less face and uncombed hair. Self-consciously she swept a strand of hair from her brow as she pondered his question. "No, I don't mean to imply that at all. It's just that everyone always wishes certain aspects of their life was different." She looked into his hard granite-like eyes but could read nothing in them. She continued, "In my writing I can fulfill all of my dreams through my characters' actions and emotions."
Alexander stared at her. "It doesn't make any sense to me, just a waste of my money and your time, which you could be spending fixing up this dump!"
Irene glanced around the room. "The house is clean, Alexander. I can't help the fact that this apartment is too small for five people. It's cluttered, but not dirty." she noted. Her hazel eyes grew bright suddenly. "If I could just get one book into the right hands, I could be on my way. I could help to support us. With your income, the child support for the girls, and money from the book, we could buy a house and be able to afford a few luxuries."
He laughed. "You live in a dream world."
"No, you don't understand, honey. I know I can write. It's in my blood. I just wish I could explain it to you. It's not a waste of time or money. Every writer has been rejected or disappointed at some point, but they never gave up. I need you to support me in this. I know that someday it's going to happen for me. I can feel it, Alexander. I have the ability to create any situation I want," she said enthusiastically.
He smirked. "You're right about one thing. You do have the ability to create situations. Maybe if you spent more time thinking about your family's needs and less time on some stupid dream of becoming a writer, which I personally believe will never happen because your no good at it, things would be better between us," he said sarcastically as he looked at her. "Why don't you put something decent on instead of running around like a slob?" He stood up. "One more thing: when you finally show me some money, maybe I'll take this foolishness seriously."
Tears stung her eyes. "Everyone has to have a dream. If we didn't have our dreams, life would be pretty dull and gray."
"Reality, Irene, you have to face reality. You will never be a famous author. And if you believe in the Lord, as you claim, you should not be seeking after worldly pleasures."
"That's what you don't understand. The Lord gave me this ability, Alexander. We should use our talents to the best of our ability. I have this passion to write and it came from the Lord," she explained.
"The Lord also commands that I am the head of the household and you are to be in complete submission to me," he stated firmly.
"Sometimes you twist the meaning of things. The Lord gave me my own mind and free will. I don't see what harm my writing is doing. Besides, I don't have the desire to be rich and famous. Writing is something of my own. There is nothing wrong with me wanting to be a writer. Nothing."
Alexander laughed as he shook his head. "You are such a fool. You're doing a terrible injustice to the Lord with your crazy dream."
"No, I'm not! I don't see where you're so perfect, Alexander!" She knew she should have kept her silence, but like a mother protecting her young, she was protecting the only part of herself she had left. "What do you think you are showing the Lord?" she shouted, immediately sorry for her last remark as she awaited his reaction.
He slowly picked up a handful of her papers and shuffled through them, then began to read to himself for a few minutes.
Irene watched him but could not tell what he was thinking. His face showed no emotion one way or the other.
Suddenly he raised his eyes and stared contemptuously at her as he tore the sheets in half, then tore them again and deposited them in the wastepaper basket.
Irene watched in horror. "What are you doing?" she cried.
"Putting this garbage where it belongs," he angrily answered as he reached for another stack of papers.
She grabbed his wrist. "Don't!" she screamed.
His hand froze in midair as he glared at her. "Don't you ever grab my wrist out question my authority again!" His words were slow but ominous.
She released him, wishing she had kept silent. Her insides began to quiver as she waited for her punishment like some ill-mannered child.
He slowly stood up and walked around the table. He stopped behind her chair.
Irene's heart thudded against her chest. She was scared to turn around. She sat still as though she were glued to the chair.
Suddenly he grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled on it, bringing her to her feet. He spun her around until she was facing him. "Do you want to be treated like a whore?" he demanded. "Like the women you write about?"
He held her so close that she could feel his warm breath on her face. "I don't write about women like that," she answered in a small voice.
"Why do you write such trash?"
"It's not trash. If you read the whole thing, you would see that it is nothing more than a love story. There is no sex in the book."
"Sure," he sneered as he looked intensely at her. "Where are the kids?" he asked suddenly.
"They should be home pretty soon. You know how teenagers are." She looked at him, wondering what to expect.
"You baby the girls too much, Irene, and I'm sick and tired of it."
She didn't know which way his emotions would move him. She had been through this so many times before that she was always taken by surprise, even though she tried to be on guard with him. "I don't baby them, Alexander. I only want the best for them, Stephan, too. Why don't you sit down and talk to the girls and really get to know them? They are a lot of fun if you give them a chance."
He glared at her. "You will always take their side against me. It never fails. To be perfectly honest, they get on my nerves, especially Serena and that music of hers. Thump, thump, thump, that's all I ever hear. That stereo is going in the trash! That crap she listens to is warping her mind!"
Anger flashed in Irene's eyes. "That stereo was a gift from her grandmother. It's going to stay in her room. Besides, there is nothing wrong with music."
"What did you say?" he asked as his eyes bored into hers. "Did I just hear you question my authority?" His voice grew louder. "Have you forgotten who is the head of this family?"
Irene's bottom lip trembled.
"Answer me!"
Before she could utter a sound, he shoved her hard. "You are pushing me to the limit, lady! I will not tolerate any more of your disrespect for my authority!" He slapped her hard across the mouth with the back of his hand.
Blood spurted from her lip. His eyes were wild as he came at her with raised fists. "No!" she screamed. "I'm sorry! I won't question your authority again," she pleaded.
"You should have thought of that before you opened your mouth!" He shoved her against the wall, pinning her with one muscular arm as his fist came crashing down on her chin. "Is this the way you like to be treated, whore? Like the women you write about?"
She fell to the floor in a heap. The pain she felt was worse than any thing she had ever felt before. All sense of being drained from her.
Alexander was instantly at her side. He bent down to look at her, and then knelt down to where she lay. He picked her head up carefully and laid it in his lap and began to stroke her hair. "Baby, what's wrong with you? Don't you know how much I love you?" Tears slid down his cheeks. "I would never hurt you. I'm only trying to protect you from yourself."
Lita walked into the kitchen. "What's going on?" she asked as she flipped her auburn hair over her shoulder. "Why are you guys on the floor?" she asked with a laugh in her voice as she walked closer. "Mom?" She stood above her mother now and stared down at her. "Mom, what happened?" she asked as she looked in horror at her mother's bruised face.
"I'm okay, honey. I just had a little accident," Irene whispered through clenched teeth.
"This isn't a little accident, Mom." She glared at her stepfather. "You hit her again, didn't you?"
"I have never hit your mother!" Alexander's face flushed angrily. "I resent your accusation!"
Lita's eyes filled with tears. "How can you lie about it? You mistreat her and then lie about it!" She faced her mother. "Why don't we leave, Mom?"
"Honey, I'll be fine," she whispered as she took her daughter's delicate hand and slowly rose to her feet. She gave her a long hug. "Why don't you take a hot shower and get to bed early? You look tired."
"Mom, your face! He hit you, admit it!" she cried. "I'm going to call the police!"
"Don't you ever threaten me!" Alexander quickly grabbed her arm.
"Don't touch me!" Lita's eyes flashed angrily. "You are sick!" She stomped out of the room.
Alexander turned to Irene. "You should feel so proud to have brought two losers like your daughters into this world! They are a mockery to God!"
"Alexander, they are my children and I love them very much. I'm sorry that you're jealous of them. But I will not have them living this way." Tears streamed down her face. "I love you, Alexander, but you are not a good father."
"What do you mean by that?" he demanded.
"Look what you've done to your son. The way you've raised him, I fear for his future relationships with women."
"Don't you dare say a word about Stephan! He's a good boy," he stated. "You've always been jealous of him!"
"It's useless to talk to you. Everything is so one-sided with you and it always will be!" She put her hand to her chin. "Why, Alexander? Why do you hurt me? Do you think God justifies what you are doing? I can't live this way anymore."
"Your mouth is going to get you into serious trouble some day. I give you a good life and this is what I get in return." He shook his head. "I don't know what you expect from a husband. Get yourself into the bathroom before Serena gets home and accuses me of beating you."
She looked in disbelief at him as she laid a hand on his arm. "Alexander, they see what you're doing. They see my bruises. How can you deny it? I want to help you." Her lips trembled. "You can get help."
"Don't touch me!" His voice was icy. "You don't know my needs," he sneered. "And even if you did, you wouldn't be capable of fulfilling them."
"I'm your wife! I don't deserve this treatment!" She shook her head in exasperation. "I know I've asked you this before, but did something happen in your childhood that you can't deal with?"
He rolled his eyes. "Don't blame my mother again. Just because you don't like her, don't expect me to ignore her. She's a good woman."
"I didn't say anything about your mother. I'm just trying to understand you."
"Just leave me alone! You push me too far, Irene. I don't know why I ever married you. That's one time I wish I would have listened to my mother."
Irene shook her head again. "Honey," she said softly, "what did that woman do to you? Why are you afraid to stand up to her? She has lied to you and treated you like dirt so many times and I have to suffer the consequences. I'm sick of it, Alexander. And I am sick of the way you treat my girls."
"I've treated you better than anyone you've ever known," he insisted.
"No, you haven't! You've always emotionally and verbally abused me, and then when you found out that you were illegitimate, you started physically abusing me. What is the connection?"
"Don't you ever talk about my mother!" he shouted. His facial muscles twitched as though he had no control over them. Suddenly he grabbed her arm, causing it to twist as though he were trying to steady himself, but after a few seconds, Irene realized that his tight grip on her bare flesh was meant to cause her pain.
"Let go, Alexander!" she screamed. "You're going to break my arm!" She squeezed her eyes shut as pain seared through her shoulder.
"I want you to feel the same pain you've caused me to feel," he said as he shoved her until her back was wedged against the counter.
"I don't know what you're talking about. Please let me go," she pleaded. If he pushed any harder, her arm was going to snap.
"I warned you, but you never listen," he whispered menacingly. "No one ever listens to me. Maybe now you'll realize who's the boss around here. I know what's good for you."
Irene looked into his eyes. They were vacant and lost. "Please, honey," she again pleaded, "I know that you really don't want to hurt me." She held her breath as he tugged her arm more forcefully. Tears squeezed out of her tightly closed eyes. "No!" she screamed in pain as a sickening blackness almost overtook her. "Lita!"
"Can't you hear the shower, Irene? She can't hear you. And Serena's probably got that evil music blaring again. No one can hear you," he whispered in her ear.
"The neighbors."
"The neighbors don't care about you. They don't hear me yelling. They probably wish I would shut you the hell up."
"Please, Alexander," she cried.
He ignored her. "You have so much evil in you, Irene." His voice was firm. "It is my Godly duty as your husband to release this evil from within you."
"Alexander, I am not evil. I'm a good person."
"No." He looked into her eyes. "You can't see the evil within you. I can see it, though."
"You are the one who's evil," she said in a raspy voice. "The things you do to me are from a sick mind. You have no right to hurt me."
His eyes narrowed. "How dare you accuse me of abuse?" He tightened his grip and twisted her arm with all the strength he possessed.
She screamed as her bone separated from her shoulder.
"The famous author is at it again," Alexander mocked as he leaned against the refrigerator.
She smiled. "It's in my blood, honey. Maybe someday I'll be published. In fact, I know I will be."
"All I can see is a waste of my hard-earned money, Irene." He pulled up a chair and sat down across from her. "So what do you write about, anyway?"
Irene set her pen down. "You've never seemed interested before," she said, surprised at what appeared to be his general interest in her activities.
"I didn't say I was interested. Just curious."
She looked at her husband. He was so handsome. She wanted so much to be able to truly share with him. He was handsome even now, wearing an old, paint stained shirt and faded jeans. His feet were bare. "I can't explain it too well. Mostly I write about my feelings. Sometimes my feelings pour out on paper and release all of the frustration of life. The difference is that I can control my characters and they can have the most wonderful lives and all of their dreams fulfilled."
His eyes narrowed. "Are you saying that your life isn't satisfying to you?"
She noticed the disapproval in his eyes as he swept over her makeup- less face and uncombed hair. Self-consciously she swept a strand of hair from her brow as she pondered his question. "No, I don't mean to imply that at all. It's just that everyone always wishes certain aspects of their life was different." She looked into his hard granite-like eyes but could read nothing in them. She continued, "In my writing I can fulfill all of my dreams through my characters' actions and emotions."
Alexander stared at her. "It doesn't make any sense to me, just a waste of my money and your time, which you could be spending fixing up this dump!"
Irene glanced around the room. "The house is clean, Alexander. I can't help the fact that this apartment is too small for five people. It's cluttered, but not dirty." she noted. Her hazel eyes grew bright suddenly. "If I could just get one book into the right hands, I could be on my way. I could help to support us. With your income, the child support for the girls, and money from the book, we could buy a house and be able to afford a few luxuries."
He laughed. "You live in a dream world."
"No, you don't understand, honey. I know I can write. It's in my blood. I just wish I could explain it to you. It's not a waste of time or money. Every writer has been rejected or disappointed at some point, but they never gave up. I need you to support me in this. I know that someday it's going to happen for me. I can feel it, Alexander. I have the ability to create any situation I want," she said enthusiastically.
He smirked. "You're right about one thing. You do have the ability to create situations. Maybe if you spent more time thinking about your family's needs and less time on some stupid dream of becoming a writer, which I personally believe will never happen because your no good at it, things would be better between us," he said sarcastically as he looked at her. "Why don't you put something decent on instead of running around like a slob?" He stood up. "One more thing: when you finally show me some money, maybe I'll take this foolishness seriously."
Tears stung her eyes. "Everyone has to have a dream. If we didn't have our dreams, life would be pretty dull and gray."
"Reality, Irene, you have to face reality. You will never be a famous author. And if you believe in the Lord, as you claim, you should not be seeking after worldly pleasures."
"That's what you don't understand. The Lord gave me this ability, Alexander. We should use our talents to the best of our ability. I have this passion to write and it came from the Lord," she explained.
"The Lord also commands that I am the head of the household and you are to be in complete submission to me," he stated firmly.
"Sometimes you twist the meaning of things. The Lord gave me my own mind and free will. I don't see what harm my writing is doing. Besides, I don't have the desire to be rich and famous. Writing is something of my own. There is nothing wrong with me wanting to be a writer. Nothing."
Alexander laughed as he shook his head. "You are such a fool. You're doing a terrible injustice to the Lord with your crazy dream."
"No, I'm not! I don't see where you're so perfect, Alexander!" She knew she should have kept her silence, but like a mother protecting her young, she was protecting the only part of herself she had left. "What do you think you are showing the Lord?" she shouted, immediately sorry for her last remark as she awaited his reaction.
He slowly picked up a handful of her papers and shuffled through them, then began to read to himself for a few minutes.
Irene watched him but could not tell what he was thinking. His face showed no emotion one way or the other.
Suddenly he raised his eyes and stared contemptuously at her as he tore the sheets in half, then tore them again and deposited them in the wastepaper basket.
Irene watched in horror. "What are you doing?" she cried.
"Putting this garbage where it belongs," he angrily answered as he reached for another stack of papers.
She grabbed his wrist. "Don't!" she screamed.
His hand froze in midair as he glared at her. "Don't you ever grab my wrist out question my authority again!" His words were slow but ominous.
She released him, wishing she had kept silent. Her insides began to quiver as she waited for her punishment like some ill-mannered child.
He slowly stood up and walked around the table. He stopped behind her chair.
Irene's heart thudded against her chest. She was scared to turn around. She sat still as though she were glued to the chair.
Suddenly he grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled on it, bringing her to her feet. He spun her around until she was facing him. "Do you want to be treated like a whore?" he demanded. "Like the women you write about?"
He held her so close that she could feel his warm breath on her face. "I don't write about women like that," she answered in a small voice.
"Why do you write such trash?"
"It's not trash. If you read the whole thing, you would see that it is nothing more than a love story. There is no sex in the book."
"Sure," he sneered as he looked intensely at her. "Where are the kids?" he asked suddenly.
"They should be home pretty soon. You know how teenagers are." She looked at him, wondering what to expect.
"You baby the girls too much, Irene, and I'm sick and tired of it."
She didn't know which way his emotions would move him. She had been through this so many times before that she was always taken by surprise, even though she tried to be on guard with him. "I don't baby them, Alexander. I only want the best for them, Stephan, too. Why don't you sit down and talk to the girls and really get to know them? They are a lot of fun if you give them a chance."
He glared at her. "You will always take their side against me. It never fails. To be perfectly honest, they get on my nerves, especially Serena and that music of hers. Thump, thump, thump, that's all I ever hear. That stereo is going in the trash! That crap she listens to is warping her mind!"
Anger flashed in Irene's eyes. "That stereo was a gift from her grandmother. It's going to stay in her room. Besides, there is nothing wrong with music."
"What did you say?" he asked as his eyes bored into hers. "Did I just hear you question my authority?" His voice grew louder. "Have you forgotten who is the head of this family?"
Irene's bottom lip trembled.
"Answer me!"
Before she could utter a sound, he shoved her hard. "You are pushing me to the limit, lady! I will not tolerate any more of your disrespect for my authority!" He slapped her hard across the mouth with the back of his hand.
Blood spurted from her lip. His eyes were wild as he came at her with raised fists. "No!" she screamed. "I'm sorry! I won't question your authority again," she pleaded.
"You should have thought of that before you opened your mouth!" He shoved her against the wall, pinning her with one muscular arm as his fist came crashing down on her chin. "Is this the way you like to be treated, whore? Like the women you write about?"
She fell to the floor in a heap. The pain she felt was worse than any thing she had ever felt before. All sense of being drained from her.
Alexander was instantly at her side. He bent down to look at her, and then knelt down to where she lay. He picked her head up carefully and laid it in his lap and began to stroke her hair. "Baby, what's wrong with you? Don't you know how much I love you?" Tears slid down his cheeks. "I would never hurt you. I'm only trying to protect you from yourself."
Lita walked into the kitchen. "What's going on?" she asked as she flipped her auburn hair over her shoulder. "Why are you guys on the floor?" she asked with a laugh in her voice as she walked closer. "Mom?" She stood above her mother now and stared down at her. "Mom, what happened?" she asked as she looked in horror at her mother's bruised face.
"I'm okay, honey. I just had a little accident," Irene whispered through clenched teeth.
"This isn't a little accident, Mom." She glared at her stepfather. "You hit her again, didn't you?"
"I have never hit your mother!" Alexander's face flushed angrily. "I resent your accusation!"
Lita's eyes filled with tears. "How can you lie about it? You mistreat her and then lie about it!" She faced her mother. "Why don't we leave, Mom?"
"Honey, I'll be fine," she whispered as she took her daughter's delicate hand and slowly rose to her feet. She gave her a long hug. "Why don't you take a hot shower and get to bed early? You look tired."
"Mom, your face! He hit you, admit it!" she cried. "I'm going to call the police!"
"Don't you ever threaten me!" Alexander quickly grabbed her arm.
"Don't touch me!" Lita's eyes flashed angrily. "You are sick!" She stomped out of the room.
Alexander turned to Irene. "You should feel so proud to have brought two losers like your daughters into this world! They are a mockery to God!"
"Alexander, they are my children and I love them very much. I'm sorry that you're jealous of them. But I will not have them living this way." Tears streamed down her face. "I love you, Alexander, but you are not a good father."
"What do you mean by that?" he demanded.
"Look what you've done to your son. The way you've raised him, I fear for his future relationships with women."
"Don't you dare say a word about Stephan! He's a good boy," he stated. "You've always been jealous of him!"
"It's useless to talk to you. Everything is so one-sided with you and it always will be!" She put her hand to her chin. "Why, Alexander? Why do you hurt me? Do you think God justifies what you are doing? I can't live this way anymore."
"Your mouth is going to get you into serious trouble some day. I give you a good life and this is what I get in return." He shook his head. "I don't know what you expect from a husband. Get yourself into the bathroom before Serena gets home and accuses me of beating you."
She looked in disbelief at him as she laid a hand on his arm. "Alexander, they see what you're doing. They see my bruises. How can you deny it? I want to help you." Her lips trembled. "You can get help."
"Don't touch me!" His voice was icy. "You don't know my needs," he sneered. "And even if you did, you wouldn't be capable of fulfilling them."
"I'm your wife! I don't deserve this treatment!" She shook her head in exasperation. "I know I've asked you this before, but did something happen in your childhood that you can't deal with?"
He rolled his eyes. "Don't blame my mother again. Just because you don't like her, don't expect me to ignore her. She's a good woman."
"I didn't say anything about your mother. I'm just trying to understand you."
"Just leave me alone! You push me too far, Irene. I don't know why I ever married you. That's one time I wish I would have listened to my mother."
Irene shook her head again. "Honey," she said softly, "what did that woman do to you? Why are you afraid to stand up to her? She has lied to you and treated you like dirt so many times and I have to suffer the consequences. I'm sick of it, Alexander. And I am sick of the way you treat my girls."
"I've treated you better than anyone you've ever known," he insisted.
"No, you haven't! You've always emotionally and verbally abused me, and then when you found out that you were illegitimate, you started physically abusing me. What is the connection?"
"Don't you ever talk about my mother!" he shouted. His facial muscles twitched as though he had no control over them. Suddenly he grabbed her arm, causing it to twist as though he were trying to steady himself, but after a few seconds, Irene realized that his tight grip on her bare flesh was meant to cause her pain.
"Let go, Alexander!" she screamed. "You're going to break my arm!" She squeezed her eyes shut as pain seared through her shoulder.
"I want you to feel the same pain you've caused me to feel," he said as he shoved her until her back was wedged against the counter.
"I don't know what you're talking about. Please let me go," she pleaded. If he pushed any harder, her arm was going to snap.
"I warned you, but you never listen," he whispered menacingly. "No one ever listens to me. Maybe now you'll realize who's the boss around here. I know what's good for you."
Irene looked into his eyes. They were vacant and lost. "Please, honey," she again pleaded, "I know that you really don't want to hurt me." She held her breath as he tugged her arm more forcefully. Tears squeezed out of her tightly closed eyes. "No!" she screamed in pain as a sickening blackness almost overtook her. "Lita!"
"Can't you hear the shower, Irene? She can't hear you. And Serena's probably got that evil music blaring again. No one can hear you," he whispered in her ear.
"The neighbors."
"The neighbors don't care about you. They don't hear me yelling. They probably wish I would shut you the hell up."
"Please, Alexander," she cried.
He ignored her. "You have so much evil in you, Irene." His voice was firm. "It is my Godly duty as your husband to release this evil from within you."
"Alexander, I am not evil. I'm a good person."
"No." He looked into her eyes. "You can't see the evil within you. I can see it, though."
"You are the one who's evil," she said in a raspy voice. "The things you do to me are from a sick mind. You have no right to hurt me."
His eyes narrowed. "How dare you accuse me of abuse?" He tightened his grip and twisted her arm with all the strength he possessed.
She screamed as her bone separated from her shoulder.