A Changed Man

Chapter 3

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He surprised with a house, a place they could, together, call home. Excited and hopeful, she hefted her big belly down the halls. Imagining which pictures would go where, picturing a blonde baby in a pink onesie playing in her room. A baby girl, with big bright curious blue eyes like her and a cute button nose. For now, the black and white images of a “perfect” family held the place of their own in each frame but that was going to change soon. Michael seemed to be very happy with how the nursery was turning out, the second coat of paint was drying, a soft pink with white swirls of clouds on the ceiling. Now he was building the refined white baby crib in the corner of the room. She sauntered into the nursery and he looked at her with a smile that reached his eyes, reassuring her he was as devoted and thankful as she was. Reassurance; she would need this constantly, filling the holes her childhood let cave in. They were four months away from the due date, September 26th was when their life would forever change; warm fuzziness filled her heart. She pulled out the sonogram they received just two days ago, when they were told their child was a girl. She placed the image on their new polished grey fridge, already brightening the room with hope and love. After, she started dinner, wanting it to be special because they never truly celebrated finding out the gender of their child. She arranged the table with the finer plates and silverware they had, putting extra effort to make this a perfect night for the two of them. They haven’t had a good night in a while, every night ended the same; he stormed off angry but not before he threatened and slapped her. She heard the harsh sound of a door being slammed followed by him walking in the kitchen seconds later. Please let tonight be different. “I made your favorite, thought we could celebrate our daughter and maybe start thinking of baby names.” S i l e n c e. “The meat is a little over done.” She took a breath and responded, “I’m sorry I can make you something else if that would be better?” “You know, you’d think after me paying for this house, your clothes, your child and this food that you would be a little god damn more grateful and cook the food right. I gave you a better life, took you away from those good-for-nothing poor people you call family. I gave you everything. You see that ring on your finger, your fat stomach with a fucking kid in there; from me.” She tried her best to not to react, she knew he was picking a fight and her talking back would end in another consequence she didn't want her child to pay with her. He stood up, threw his plate against the freshly painted white walls. “Oh you don't think so? Then go find another man to seduce again and be the whore you are. Is that thing even mine? Tell me who else you’ve been fucking while I work my ass for you to provide for you.” She had to count to ten, one…two…three…Another plate slammed against the wall, broken glass shattering to the floor. Four…five…six…She’d have to remember to wear shoes while cleaning up. “You won’t even acknowledge me now. GET UP.” What could she do but listen? When he got like this she had to. Seven…eight…nine…She looked at him with tears on the brink of spilling out, not knowing whether to be terrified for her or sad for him. Biting her nails to the bone, she was contemplating running now or sticking through it. I have to stay for her, I can’t run away now, not after everything I’ve been through with him. “Why do you make me do this again! If you just showed how thankful you were and not be such an undeserving bitch to me I wouldn’t get like this.” He slapped her across the face, splitting her lip so she could taste the metallic like blood in her mouth. Next was a blow to the stomach, knocking the breath out of her. Ten. “Please don’t touch her.” “What the fuck did you just say? You’re telling me what to do now?” His fists started firing, seeming to never end. She tried to protect her, trying to block his hand and protect the life she carried inside of her. He can not touch her. She hit back, trying to just grab hold of his wrists and get him to come back, wake up from this blood raged state. Grabbing one hand, she looked into his eyes. C o l d and d e a d. He’d never been this bad before where he couldn't be pulled back from the edge. But that’s just it, he fell off. She struggled and got up on her feet, going to the drawer to grab a knife, needing something to protect herself from him. The door was a long shot; his large, dangerous form stood between her and her only way out. She held the frigid knife in her hand, threatening her very own existence if he got a hold of it. Please stop. He came at her, pulling her to the ground by her ponytail; feeling the blonde strands being pulled out by the second, praying he would stop. He was gone. “I will do anything but please do not hurt our child I’m begging you.” She could barely screech out the words with his hands strangling her fragile throat, the airway to living. Mistake. “Begging is for the weak.” He had the upper hand and kicked. He kicked and kicked, she begun spitting up blood now. Stay with me, I need you. Flashes of her daughter the first day she would be born, holding the fragile, delicate body in her arms. Her baby girl’s first birthday, second grade birthday patties at Pump-it-Up with all of her little friends, shopping for the perfect dress for her first grade school dance, meeting her first boyfriend to seeing her graduate high school. Don’t take her from me. Picturing her daughter grown up, the once straight blonde hair turned wavy and brown. She pulled down the sonogram from the fridge and grasped the image, holding on for their lives so hard her knuckles turned ghostly white. Till the world goes black. H a d l e e. She woke up to the kitchen lit by the moonlight shining through the windows, looking around to a disaster she had to start cleaning up. She moved her hands beneath her to start to get up and fix what he broke. But what she felt broke her inside, crushed her very being. A pool of cold blood surrounded her. The sight, thought, smell, touch of her own blood took over her mind. She knew what this was from. She wanted to scream, to scream so loud she could feel the burn in her lungs and never stop. But she knew if she did, he would kill her next.

One…She was shaking, trembling while the tears rushed out. Two… Her heart ripped inside; if he didn’t kill her this would. Three…four… Haunted by the memories of a daughter she could never have. Five…Every dream and hope she wanted shattered. Six…Her bone-chilling blood made her numb, afraid to speak or move. Seven…The blood pounded in her ears, she was gasping for air. Eight…The blackness threatened to take over, swallow her whole. Nine…Her head slammed to the ground.