Poison

Here's this weeks contribution to the Weekend Wordsmith Meme. It was fun writing this one!


Just one little drop, that’s all it would take to end my problems. It wouldn’t hurt much. Well, wouldn’t hurt me much anyway. I guess Harry would think differently. But after all the pain he’s put me though I don’t much care for his opinion.

He never cared when he hurt me. All the beatings…it’s a wonder I’m still alive. Not that I call this living. Stuck in this chair for the rest of my life. Oh how he enjoys the sympathy from friends! It makes my skin crawl when he talks about taking care of me. He takes care of me alright, every night. Takes care that I don’t scream too loud and wake the neighbors.

He should never have left the bottle sitting on the kitchen counter. He seems to think I can’t do anything in this chair, but I can. I reached the bottle for instance, and I’ve kept it hidden ever since. Just one little drop, and I’ll be free. Free to do what I’m not quite sure; but free from him, though, is the important thing. Maybe two little drops would be better.

Here he comes now, stomping up the stairs. Better get in the living room.

“What are you looking at, you little cripple?” he snarls as he walks in.

I know better than to say anything back. Don’t want the beatings to start too early.

“I guess you’ve been sitting here watching TV all day while I’ve been working. You’re useless,” he says as he’s pulling his work boots off, leaving his dirty, smelly socks lying on the floor.

“After I get me a beer and clean up, we’ll see if we can’t find a use for you,” he says with a smirk.

We’ll see about that, Harry. This time things are going to be different. I’m not taking any more of this crap. I’m tired of it. I’m just tired period.

“Damn that’s good,” he says after the first swig of beer.

“I won’t be long, and then we can have some fun,” he throws back on his way to the bathroom.

Just one little drop. Wonder how the beer will taste now. He is kinda big, better use two drops. There, all done. Just in time too, here he comes.

“What are you looking at?” he snarls. “After I finish this beer I’ll teach you some respect.”

“What the hell? What’s going on here? Argh…” he says grabbing his chest and falling to the floor. “What have you done, you little shit?”

This is very interesting. He’s actually twitching. I thought people only did that on TV. He’s turning blue too. I hope it will be over soon.

“Carmen, baby, call 911. You can’t let me die like this! You know I love you. I’m sorry. I won’t hurt you anymore. Please, baby, call someone!” he pleads.

“Sorry, Dad, remember I can’t reach the phone anymore. You wouldn’t lower it on the wall.”