Control

“Are you really going to wear that?”

I smiled when Amanda’s shoulders slumped and she hung her head in shame. She actually looked good in the dress, but I couldn’t let her know that. Oh no, she had to wear what I told her and only what I told her. You had to keep your woman under control. Dad had taught me that, and it had served him and mom well for fifty years.

“I’ll go change,” Amanda whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“Hurry up,” I ordered. “I can’t afford to be late for this dinner.” When she didn’t leave fast enough, I added, “Not that you care about the promotion anyway. Not with the way you keep spending money.”

Amanda hardly ever bought anything for herself, but she had bought new school clothes for the children last week. I knew she would think of that and be ashamed. She ran to the bedroom to change while I sat on the couch and read the paper.

After ten years, it was easy to push her buttons. I used to wonder why she didn’t leave, but then I figured it out. She actually believed she was stupid and couldn’t survive on her own. I guess after hearing her father say it all through her childhood and me say it during our marriage, she took it for fact.

She was back in ten minutes, but I acted as if it had taken hours. “It’s about time! What took you so long?”

“I’m sorry, Tony, I tried to hurry.”

“Well you didn’t try hard enough. If we’re late you can bet your sweet ass they’ll know why.”

I knew we wouldn’t be late, but Amanda didn’t. I had never allowed her to learn to drive. She had to take a cab to the store whenever she went, which of course I complained about if it was more than once a week because of the money. 

We had plenty of money. I had socked it away for years, but she had no idea. I gave her an allowance and that was all she got.

We made it to the dinner on time. Not that I didn’t belittle Amanda because we were the last ones there. To her credit, she sucked back the tears and held her head high while meeting all my associates. I had trained her well.

When we were first married, she broke down in the middle of a party. After I was through with her lesson, she never made that mistake again. From then on, I could count on her to hold herself together no matter what I said. Her self-control was actually astounding under the circumstances. 

Dinner went well. Amanda never missed a step. I had made her watch etiquette demonstration videos for two days straight during our first year of marriage so she would never embarrass me when we were out. I even made her stick to all the rules at home when it was just the family. 

Not that I was going to tell her how well things went. 

“Well that was just great, Amanda,” I snapped as soon as we got in the car.

“I’m sorry,” she replied, even though she had no idea what I was talking about. “I’ll do better next time.”

“Damn right you will. I think it’s time you dug those etiquette videos back out and watched them again.”

“Yes, Tony, I’ll watch them tonight when we get home.”

“I’ll be lucky if I get the promotion now,” I added and sulked the rest of the way home. 

Sometimes, I got tired of the charade, but if I didn’t keep up my end, Amanda might start thinking for herself and we couldn’t have that. I needed her by my side. Nobody made partner at Sterns and Benfield who wasn’t married.

I smiled when we walked in the door and Amanda headed straight to the hall closet to fetch the videos. I stood in the doorway, watched until she started the show, and sat down, and then I went to bed. I would quiz her in the morning.

It was late and I was tired.

Digging Yourself Deeper

 Here's my story from this weeks writing exercise. What do y'all think?

"You've been outside digging a large hole for several hours when you realize that you can't recall why you are digging it. Retrace your steps to try to discover your motivation. (500 words or fewer)"

                                                  

I’m so tired I can hardly keep my eyes open. It seems like I’ve been digging for days, but I know that can’t be true. I remember going to work yesterday. I know it was yesterday because the sun is just coming up so another day is dawning. 

The pain in my shoulders tells me I have been at it for a while. My head aches something fierce, which makes sense when I think about the blood I wiped out of my eyes earlier. 

I wish I could remember why I’ve been digging a hole. I know it’s important, although I couldn’t tell you how I know. I feel the urgency. That’s why I haven’t stopped until now. I’ve finally reached my limit.

At least I was smart enough to bring a ladder into the hole with me. Not that I remember getting it from the garage, but I must have because nobody else is with me. Of course, the only other person that’s ever here is Greg, and he wouldn’t spit on me if I were on fire. 

I wonder where Greg is. He doesn’t usually let me out of his sight except to go to work. I am his property; he has the papers as he so often reminds me. 

It’s not like him to sleep through me getting up during the night either. Usually, the smallest movement wakes him. I can’t count the number of times I’ve almost peed myself waiting until morning to go to the bathroom. 

It seems like I remember Greg bringing home some beer last night. Maybe he got drunk. Hell, maybe I did too and that’s why I can’t remember why I’ve been digging a hole in the back yard. 

No time to worry about it now though. If I don’t have breakfast on the table when Greg wakes up, there’ll be hell to pay. I don’t think my aching body can handle a beating right now.

That’s strange. The back door is wide open. I never leave it open. A stray cat could wander in and Greg would have a fit. Muddy paw prints might mess up the pristine floor. 

What the hell? Greg is going to kill me. Who knocked all the kitchen chairs over? And the oven’s still on. The house could have burned down while I was out digging a damn hole. 

Is that blood? I should call the cops, but if Greg is ok, he’ll be upset if I involve the cops. I’ll look around first. Where’s my big butcher knife? I always leave it in the top drawer. Guess this one will have to do.

That’s a lot of blood. This is getting scary. 

Pull it together, Sandy and open the door. Greg will kill you if he’s hurt bad and you stand around like a scared rabbit doing nothing. 

Well, well. Looks like Greg won’t be killing anybody. And here I thought all the blood on my shirt was from my head wound.

Unrepentant

Tia watched the paramedics lift Tucker’s body into the ambulance. She knew the neighbors watching probably wondered why she hadn’t shed a tear, him being her husband of twenty years, but all her tears dried up long ago.

She watched as cops went in and out of her house, evidence bags clutched tightly in their hands. She knew the house would be a jumbled mess by the time they were done, but nobody cared about that. All they cared about was what happened to Tucker, one of their own.

She knew the pictures in her nightstand drawer would disappear. None of them would ever let proof of Tucker’s abuse get out if they could help it. The problem was, she had made sure they couldn’t stop it. A copy of all the photographs was in the mail to the local paper. Her sister, a reporter for the paper, was going to publish them in the late edition.

Tia was scared her sister would lose her job, but Leigh told her it was worth it. She’d been trying to get Tia away from Tucker for years, and since she never accomplished that, she was determined to help Tia after the fact. She didn’t care that Tia was guilty.

Guilty of killing her husband in his sleep. Guilty of beating him with his own baton. Guilty of enjoying it.

Tia didn’t care what happened to her anymore. Tucker had already taken everything from her, everything that mattered. He took her trust and peace of mind years ago, but those Tia had learned to live without. He had taken her dignity with every blow of his fist, and her sanity with every demeaning word he screamed at her. He had dwindled her self-worth down to nothing over the years with his constant tirades over everything thing she’d done wrong, but she had grown used to that.

But when he beat her so badly that he killed the baby she had been wanting, the baby conceived when he raped her a few months earlier, Tia gave up. 

She waited, regaining her strength, until a time when Tucker was unsuspecting. He’d pulled a double shift and was dead on his feet by the time he came home earlier that night. By the time Tia was done with him, he was dead off his feet as well.

Her sister thought Tia had a case. That she could get off because of the abuse. Tia didn’t tell her it no longer mattered. She knew her sister needed something to hold on to, a way to clear Tia’s name. Tia wondered if Leigh would still try to do that after she was gone.

Tia hated hurting her sister, but she was so tired. Tired of hurting, tired of life. Just tired. 

The two officers guarding Tia were talking to each other. Tia knew they didn’t think she was a threat, not to anyone else anyway. She used their distraction to her advantage and quietly pulled her insulin and syringe out. She had counted on them letting her keep the medicine after the paramedics told the cops stress could bring about a hypoglycemic episode. One of her guards turned toward Tia, but not before she injected herself with a lethal dose of insulin. Tia watched him turn back to his partner, not concerned after he saw that it was just her medication. 

Tia asked to be placed in a patrol car. She told the officers she was tired and needing to sit down. The officers complied. Tia watched activity swirling around outside the window and thought back to earlier that night.

Given the chance, she would do it all again, she decided. It was past time Tucker was stopped. She had thought about leaving him numerous times, but couldn’t bear to think he would find another woman to abuse. She thought she could handle everything, and she did for years, but she finally figured out there were some things nobody could handle.

As Tia felt her body slow down, she smiled. She knew it wouldn’t be long now. The last thing she saw before she slipped away was Tucker’s face. Tia knew she’d see him in hell again soon.