As requested by a few of my Mindsay friends; they wanted to see some of my fictional work. Although this is a work in progress, I'm proud of what I have of it (yes, this is what I have.) It focuses around the point of view of a married woman who is trying to 'survive' with an abusive husband. Hope you enjoy what I gave you, even though it's not much, and isn't really what I would call 'entertaining'. I also took a twist, and decided to write in the present tense. I usually, and almost always, write in the past tense - so this was a little difficult. Bear in mind, it's incomplete! XD Enjoy! :)

---

[Phase One – The Tension Builds]
(There may be a breakdown of communication, and the victim may become fearful and may feel the need to soothe their partner.)

I hear the door shutting and the lock clicking into place. I slowly prop my feet, one at a time, upon the coffee table as I continue to intently watch my favourite sitcom that airs once a week, every Wednesday, at eight P.M.

The noises following afterwards were like a daily routine after the door was shut – husband enters, drops his suitcase on the tiled floor by the dining room table, closet opens, husband hangs up his coat, closet shuts, husband opens fridge to grab a plate of dinner, microwave door opens, microwave door shut, timer beeps three times, and last but not least, husband enters room where wife is located.

I remove my absorbed gaze from the episode taking place, and place it on the face of my husband – my face suddenly drops as I notice the stern expression that has invaded
his face. The familiar feeling of fear begins to stir and arouse within me. I don’t know what to say to him.

“…How was work?” I ask hesitantly, placing my head to one side in concern. Something must have occurred over there. This morning ran pleasantly, and it certainly wasn’t anticipated on my part – so I have been feeling precautious about nearly everything for the whole day.

My partner’s eyes drift away from me, the atmosphere suddenly growing cold as he responds with a soft grunt. This makes me more concerned. I get up, stretching myself as I try to make things brighter.
“Did I tell you I got a raise, this last week?”

My husband, David, emits a growling noise from the back of his throat, sending me a clear indication that I had obviously said the wrong thing. A pang suddenly strikes my heart. I begin to worry. I carefully place a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and he turns back to face me with hardened eyes of hostility.

“Good for you.” He says bluntly. Jealousy? I blink in bewilderment and awkwardly remove my hand. I continue to stare into his eyes, which continue to sparkle with a great amount of hostility.

“Come on, what’s wrong?” I ask, trying to get him to talk to me. I cautiously hug his arm to add some extra persuasion.

“Nothing.” He says, giving me the same amount of hostility as before. My arms drop sadly, and the weight of hopelessness begins to slowly mount upon my shoulders.

“…I’m only trying to help.” I whisper sorrowfully, giving a sigh as I turn away slightly.

“Well, you’re not doing a very good job of it.”

I spin back around, and my brow furrows in sudden frustration at his words. How dare he?!
“Well, at least I’m making some sort of effort!” I snap, my voice suddenly rising and my tone becoming firm.

My husband’s eyebrows knit together, He looks as if he’s about to retort. My face softens as I brace myself, preparing for anything unexpected. My partner opens his mouth, but his unsaid words are replaced with the beeping from the microwave. His meal is ready. I am saved from the microwave timer.

What an odd, unusual thing to be saved by…

My husband glares sharply at me for a final time, before he slowly retreats back to the kitchen to retrieve his dinner. Relief begins removing the hopelessness from my shoulders.

I sigh silently, walking over to where my coat is hung, and I quickly put it on. I twist the knob on the door, the lock clicks, and I swing the door aside.

“Where are you going?”

I freeze. The question lingers in the air, and stirs throughout my mind – waiting desperately to be answered. I look over my shoulder, obediently responding to his question.
“I’m going out. I need a break....”

“Be back by eleven.” – By the time my partner says this; I’m already out the door.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

I take a sip from my coffee. It feels nice against my throat. The soft aroma of ground coffee beans wafts through the air and tickles my nose. The warm, soothing sensation of my personal two cream, two sugar brew erases my mind.

The warm, welcoming atmosphere embraces me with pleasant service and a soft feeling that I can’t identify. I set my cup down. The person sitting across from me clears his throat roughly, drawing my attention towards him.

Matt, my fellow co-worker, is the one sitting across from me. He has a welcoming look that’s constantly among his face, a warm sparkle forever remains within his hazel eyes – hidden behind his personal pair of glasses.
His hair, a gentle shade of ochre, is neatly combed to the left. His figure is fairly slender, and his attire is neatly consisting of faded blue jeans and a bright blue sweater vest.

He smiles at me. The trademark smile he always gives me which made me know that I could trust him.
“So, how are things?”

“It depends on what you want to know about.” I answer honestly, fingering at the rim of my paper cup absentmindedly.

Matt raises a curious eyebrow, his lips settling naturally into a grimace.
“What do you mean?”

I remain silent. My eyes lower miserably to my finger which is still picking apart the rim of my coffee cup. I’m being distant from him, which, of course, is unfair. But I have no choice.

“Hey…” He whispers calmly, which grabs my attention and causes me to raise my head. Our gazes lock. A shiver runs down my spine. I dread the next few moments ahead, and I suddenly start to tense.

He continues, “It’s okay, you know. You can tell me anything.”

I sigh hopelessly, taking another sip from my coffee. I set my cup down, knowing everything will spill out from my mind and mouth with future persuasion on his part.
“…I don’t know, Matt. Things are running along okay, but…” I stop abruptly, shaking my head slowly. I really don’t want to tell him. Ever since I’ve been in a relationship with David, I feel like he’s planted some sort of shield around me that’s preventing me from getting to close to other men.

“…But?” Matt questions, raising an eyebrow – an indication that says it’s safe for me to continue what I was saying. He slowly removes his glasses from the bridge of his nose and quickly pulls out a cleaning cloth from a pocket in his sweater vest. His eyes shift from me, to his glasses, and back again as he waits impatiently for me to continue.

“…It’s Dave.” I croak, my husband’s name making my heart stop. The image of his face reappears in my mind. I gulp. I can feel my face burn in response to an unusual sensation that’s taking over me.

“Oh?” Matt asks. A hesitation leaves a silence between us, and he places his glasses back to where they should be.
“He hasn’t… Hurt you again, has he?”

“…No.” I whisper slowly, my voice growing hoarse. He, again, raises a suspicious eyebrow in response to my clear hesitation that leaves us wrapped in a cold blanket of silence.
I continue on, my voice growing thick. “I just don’t know, Matt… He hasn’t been speaking to me lately… It’s at those days again where I feel there’s this wall between us… It’s getting to that point where I’m putting in extra hours at work just to avoid coming home…”

Matt hesitates for a moment. My mind is spinning. I bite my lip.
“I’ve noticed that, too.” He finally comments, taking another swig from his coffee.

“I just don’t know what to-” I’m suddenly cut off by the loud, shrill ring of my cell phone – which attracts many curious and annoyed stares from those around me. I chuckle anxiously, quickly removing my phone from my pocket. I quickly flash an apologetic glance towards Matt, and he nods in reply.

The white, flashing envelope flashing onscreen indicates that I have a new text message. My thumb presses the OK button. My eyes widen and my heart quickens its pace as I read the message that was sent to me.

‘Where are you?’ it says. I look at the time it was sent. 11:17.

“What’s the matter?” Matt finally asks, showing deep concern and worry in response to the expression on my face. My hands are shaking. I read the received text over again; my pupils dilating as they continue to scan the digital lettering – over and over again.
‘Where are you?’
 
   

 


 
 
bahamat on
Re: Did I Ever Tell You How Much I Loved You? ~:~ Snippet
Make sure you stay well away from abusive guys! They have no right to be abusive, but it'll happen if they can, please, for your sake don't choose that life for yourself! I get cynical that women so often do willingly choose bad guys, sometimes knowingly for the excitement of a 'bad boy' or charmer - you must've heard that men believe being nice is a bad thing, there's not much reason for guys to be anymore, just out of principle really... because nice seems to actually have a negative effect on attractiveness, they will always be friends, but never usually considered for any more, or so it seems...
(sorry just frustration with the past speaking there)

I guess it's a case of each person finding someone who appreciates them for who they are
Geekity14 on
Re: Did I Ever Tell You How Much I Loved You? ~:~ Snippet
Of course! I TOTALLY agree with you! But the same thing goes for us women, too (I've heard of stories where men are the abused ones, but more commonly, it's with the men... Not that I'm placing labels on anybody, here.)
But, I've met guys who are really sweet and kind - but I get the rare time where I think it's a mask. I don't know, though.
But did you enjoy what you read, regardless? Sorry for being so pressy, I'd just like to know.
bahamat on
Re: Did I Ever Tell You How Much I Loved You? ~:~ Snippet
Good! I think the gender pattern is to do with the way society is - since the expectation is on men to ask, pushy men, full of confidence, determination and manipulation, are much more visible on the market, and quiet ones just plain don't get involved at all, so most relationships that do happen will involve pushy men, before considering everything else those men do to shape things in their favour! Men push each other into submission, as can rival women, depends on the person.

I do like it + it appreciates + shows the contrast between men - and that  I've always been a weak reader; I always have trouble concentrating or visualising, or engaging, but I can still imagine my old chemistry teacher! (with the specs and gentle nature, and how I'm imagining a stripy sweater lol - also I know a few guys called Matt [freeman, avery, one I dare not say] - gets confusing with the tannoy system at work! lol). The most important thing to me out of all of this is what's behind it- knowing you'll avoid abuse - think of how much you've saved yourself through realising now!
bonniegirl on
Re: Did I Ever Tell You How Much I Loved You? ~:~ Snippet
You have the beginnings of a great little story here, Em!  I know first  voice takes a bit of work, and you may need a bit of help (which I'd love to make some suggestions if you want me to) to get it perfect, but I think you have done enough to hook the reader in and cause them to wish for more, and that is how a great story is written.

But, from a personal point of view, if it had been my husband...first of all, I would NEVER have been able to leave him to get his own dinner even if he was late.  If the food was to be microwaved, it had to be done by me.  In fact, he would usually call and say he would be home in so many minutes and that was my cue to drop everything and warm that food up, so that when he stepped in the door and finished looking through the mail and/or changing clothes, he could sit down and eat.  I would have put the coffee on to drip as well, so that he could have it, right there, next to him when his food was finished.  I still do all that, by the way, since I have spoiled him so much.  He doesn't demand it as much but would freak out if I said, oh, just warm up your own food...unless we are on our way out and I was getting ready or something.

He eats cereal or scrambled eggs with meat and cheese every morning, and if it is eggs, i have to mix up the eggs, butter, ham and cheese in a bowl, so that all he has to do is microwave it in the morning.  He also eats salad every single day. This is not just a simple three part salad.  NO; this is one with tomatoes, carrots, peppers, ham, cheese, pickled beets, apple, cheese and vinagrette dressing, that I have to stand and chop and make every day so that he can take it to work the next day.  It is no trouble while I am not working, but when I worked a full day, came home and cooked, still had to go out to church if it was Wednesday, do his ironing (which I do every night as well for the next day...he will not go out without his clothes ironed, even if they are jeans).....then it is totally cruel to come home after church and still make that bloomin salad and do his ironing before I can even think of relaxing for myself.  I have found myself hating him for it, even though I do know he has to eat. 

And when you say the lady put on her coat and went out....no way!!!!!!!!! Especially if I wouldn't tell him where I was going, or that I needed a break? Hell no! He would demand where I wanted to go, and say that I had to stay home with him where I belonged, that I had all day to do anything I needed to do out of the house.  The only "breaks" I would get from him were the times I got into bed early and tried to sleep even if not sleepy, just to be away from him and his "remarks" or an even greater fight, which often came to blows.  Or I would stay in the bathroom longer, in the kitchen doing something or just general "busy" work, to be away from him, but being able to go out without a legit reason was an absolutle no-no. 

On the rare occassion that there was a reason I had to be out without him, he would want me to be back as soon as it was over and would phone me, at their home before cells, or on my cell, after I got one.  So, I was like a bird out of a cage when he was not around and everyone knew it. They all knew the "look" he gave me when he wanted me to shut up, or the remarks he threw my way or said about me that made me look stupid in front of everyone else.  They also knew he would argue me down in front of everyone, not caring who was in the vicinity, and not bother that the kids were around either, when he wanted to pick a fight about one thing or another...and of course, I was always the one at fault...he was never wrong.

You also said that she tried to press  him to tell her what was wrong. That could not happen in my house, either. That is why so many fights started in the beginnnig; because I had not yet learned the signs that he was getting mad and to shut up.  And I was too stupid to do it when I did know.  I thought that I should be able to have my opinion, even if I disagreed with him, and kept arguing, until he lashed out.  If I had only known, that nothing mattered, that who cared what my opinion was, as long as there was peace.  If he came in, as you say the man did, and started looking belligerant, I would know right away just to answer his questions and maybe say a cheery thing or two, but if he looked like he was angling for a fight, I would just keep quiet and try not to egg him on.  To keep asking him what was wrong, was not good.  Men always go into their caves when something is bothering them, and if and when they want to tell you, they will, otherwise, it is just best to keep quiest. They usually do tend to tell after they have mulled it over in their minds anyway.

Also, to tell him about the problems of the day before he has settled, eaten and had a bit of a rest, is not a good thing. It was always best to have things neat so that he could not bitch about how the house looked as soon as he walked in.  They always find something to bitch about, so the best thing to do is just not give them anything to set them off. And also to try and be neatly dressed or cleaned up when they come in, too...oh gosh....to an abuser, you don't even have to do anything wrong, so just trying to keep the peace is a major thing, and that is why I felt at times like I was going to have a nervous breakdown.  Hell, with three small children to raise and a house to clean, dinner to cook (he refuses to eat sandwiches) it is almost to keep on top of everything, but of course, they think if you don't work, you sit around and do nothing all day. Bu the thing is, that I worked most of the time, so it was doubly difficult to keep things going peacefully.

Anyway, that is my two cents' worth, Emily.  Some men are just cruel for cruelty's sake and nothing you can do can stop them....as Matt said (bahamatt), you have made a contrast between the two men.  But also, when a woman is abused, she is very vulnerable and tends to gravitate toward sweet men like him so that they can feel validated and like a human being again, worthy of acceptance and not considered to be stupid.

Thanks for sharing this...I think it is going well. 

If you want to read any of the little stories I have written, just let me know and I will give you the link to them.

Hugz
Geekity14 on
Re: Did I Ever Tell You How Much I Loved You? ~:~ Snippet
This is... a really long comment. So I'm not going to respond to it all.
I shall admit, I have a really difficult time accepting critsism - considering, well, I've been writing for years and I've always dreamed of "getting it right"; and I never really have. Thanks for the tips, though - as I could always use them later on within the story. Of course, since I wasn't really in the "real thing", I just figured what I felt for the past two years would have been similar - so I only went with that.
I don't know if I'll finish it now. I knew I shouldn't have shown it to anyone; but my eagerness gets the best of me. Knowing me, I probably won't finish it, becuase now what I had in mind doesn't seem correct at all.

All I can say is; "Oh well".
bonniegirl on
Re: Did I Ever Tell You How Much I Loved You? ~:~ Snippet
Emily, I was not 'CORRECTING' you, silly goose. I was just telling how it was with me.  The scenario that you told about could truly have happened in an abuse case...some are just worse than others. 

The only reason I spoke about it was not to tell you anything was wrong with your story, but because it brought all of that awful stuff that happened, back to me.  And I know it was not because it was long that you hesitated to answer, but because you thought I was criticizing your writing, ....BUT that is not true, in the least...you are going to go very far with your writing, in fact...and of course, you haven't "gotten it right" yet because you haven't completed or submitted anything. But everything you have done up to now has been great...so stop being so sensitive already!!!!!!! (mama talking...heaven knows i wish i had been as far with my writing at your age... )

When I suggested helping you, that was a good thing, and everyone has to listen to criticism if they are ever going to improve and grow.  I know it has been very difficult for me to accept it as well, but it is how we mature and that is definitely one thing you are going to have to learn. And I wasn't meaning corrections to the story line, just to little spelling errors or suggestions of a better way to make something sound, just to improve the grammar or whatever. 

I love you, Em, and would never do anything to hurt you, so don't look at it that way, okay? And do please finish the story; I am truly looking forward to reading it...and anything I say will only be for the good, okay?

Hugzzzzzzzzzz
Geekity14 on
Re: Did I Ever Tell You How Much I Loved You? ~:~ Snippet
Sorry for sounding so self-centered and all "perfectionist" in my last reply; I read it over and it just makes me sound... Ugh. You know. XD

I thought you were making some "corrections" with my original storyline, was all. It just sounded that way (not that it's your fault at all, by any means!).

And absolutley, I'm all up for grammar and all that other stuff (present tense is really new to me; so there may be some "past" tense stuff hidden in there by mistake).

I love you, too, Bonnie. And yup, I'll try to finish it as soon as I can! But, with me anyway, all art takes time to "perfect" it, so... I'm taking my time, I guess.

*Hugs*
bonniegirl on
Re: Did I Ever Tell You How Much I Loved You? ~:~ Snippet
Hope to hear it...you have plenty of time, dear...and you are already perfecting it every time you do any piece of writing, go give yourself credit...i can promise that you improve with each day.  You have already shown signs of maturity since you have started on here, and that is great to see...like with the positive attitude...!!

Geekity14 on
Re: Did I Ever Tell You How Much I Loved You? ~:~ Snippet
Thanks Bonnie. I have discovered recently that I don't give my mind and creative nature much acknowlegement, as I did believe that everybody that everyone has it - but mine is just... special and unique, I guess. I don't know. XD
And thank you. That means a lot to me.
bonniegirl on
Re: Did I Ever Tell You How Much I Loved You? ~:~ Snippet
It sure is special and unique, yes. And no, not everyone has the same talents, and also not in the same measure, as you see in the parable of the talents in the Bible.  He gave some three, some two and some, one...but we must not be like the one who hid his in the ground, instead of at least taking a risk and using it to SEE if it would grow.

You and I are two speciallies....giggle.  I really have to jack myself up too...I have been so freakin depressed lately, and I actually have a lot to be thankful for.

Love and hugs, my friend.
Geekity14 on
Re: Did I Ever Tell You How Much I Loved You? ~:~ Snippet
Of course, and again, I agree with you. But I do believe that we were made the way we were for specific reasons; that God only knows, I guess. :3
bonniegirl on
Re: Did I Ever Tell You How Much I Loved You? ~:~ Snippet
Certainly...that is why we even need to use our talents even more...and glad to hear you saying that, since your little tirades about have CP.  Wuv u! 

 
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