Monday, June 22, 2009


Penelope was tired. She was tired of fighting, of trying to hang on. The pain was unbearable, excruciating. Every movement hurt, even blinking. It was time to end it.

Hearing his key in the lock, she braced herself.

“What the hell?” he screamed, sighting the mess in the floor. “Clean it up, bitch!”

Penelope spit in his face. “No.”

The blow was strong, but not strong enough.

“Is that all you’ve got?” she taunted.

His fists reigned down then. With the pain came release. Penelope smiled, being in control of her own fate for a change felt awesome.