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 Posted: Wed Mar 28, 2007 2:24 pm
So this is a place for me, and I guess really any one, to darf out all of the artisticness.
I figured I might as well start off with a story. Its a "short story" and its meant to be kind of a shocker. I really don't think I pulled it off however. After all I did only have about a week to write it before I had to turn it in.
I would love some critism on it, I think I might drag it out into a novel.
Eat your heart out...
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Posted: Wed Mar 28, 2007 2:26 pm
Quondam Inamorata
A tail of a loveless relation, and a horrible mistake.
It had been a while since I had last seen my wife and truly, I wasn’t quite sure if I wanted to or not. I hoped she had calmed down since our argument-the very argument that drove me out of our house in the first place. In the back of my mind however, I was almost convinced I would not be welcomed by the warm smile and understanding voice of my spouse. At that moment I though to myself, maybe I could just leave forever. I had my luggage as well as my medication and I could find a job in another faraway city. No, that wouldn’t work. Legal issues would pop sooner or later. I took a deep breath and let it out in a depressing sigh. It had to be done.
I set down my luggage gently and reached out my arm towards the large door and knocked on it. For a moment I stood there in pure, pitiful anticipation, praying she would not come to the door. Still though, even after praying, the door swung open to reveal my partner.
I gave her a meek smile and a small “Hey…” was choked out of me. She stood there in her night gown (for it was approaching seven o’clock), her platinum blonde hair piled on top of her head with no make-up on. This was odd, considering how obsessed she was with her appearance. At the sight of me she crossed her arms and that face, that face of hers. It was a face of smug expectation, and I hated it because I knew she was angry at me when she wore that face.
“Where have you been?” she asked. I just looked at her, dazed and disoriented. My mouth made the words I wanted to say, but nothing seemed to come out, except for the beginning of a syllable or two. After a few seconds I gave up on telling her where I had been and uttered a “Humph”. I raised my arm and thrust forward a small collection of papers. She snatched them out of my hand and quickly scanned through them turning down the top of the pages.
Her jaw clenched as she read them. “You want a divorce?” she hissed. I felt the crushing pain that had been with me for several weeks since I had made the decision to move forward on the plan. Our constant arguing and failing love life left me no other alternative. I hoped the medication would help but it didn’t curb the grey misery that enveloped me.
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Posted: Wed Mar 28, 2007 2:28 pm
I slowly nodded, “Yes.” I let out a short breath and continued. “We can look over the papers together. I’ve already signed, but you need to, also. Then about a month from now all terms will be decided in court and you’ll never have to see me again.” Pausing once again I forced a small laugh, “Besides, do you really want a husband who can’t even please you?” She furrowed her brow; I could tell she knew what I was talking about.
Dismissing the subject, she retreated into the house, but first waved her arm beckoning me to follow her. I entered the small one-story home and saw nothing had changed. The television set was on, although the sound was muted. As I glanced into the kitchen I could see a pot sat on the old stove. The savory smell told me I had interrupted her dinner. I went into the kitchen towards the old scuffed up wooden table and sat down in my regular chair. Taking in my surroundings I noticed the flowers I had given my wife before days before I had left were still on the table. Withered and dead, they seemed to compliment the mood.
She was standing at the stove stirring the pot’s contents. She turned the knob off and reached up to the shelves above the range. Opening it, she took a white bowl out as she looked at me over her shoulder.
Suddenly I heard her say, “Would you like something to eat?”
I cleared my throat and spoke “Umm…Yes, I suppose so.” As I waited I fiddled with hair and stared at my wife. How I hated having to part with such a beautiful woman, but how wicked she could be.
She left the stove and approached the table sitting down two bowls. Quickly, fleeting back to the countertop she retrieved two glasses of water and finally sat down next to me. Looking down at the stew she had set in front of me I began to talk about the papers with her. She stared at me, an unsure look upon her face. The air was tight between us; the type of atmosphere there was before an argument ensued.
Finally she began to sign the paper but suddenly she glanced up and looked at me then spoke the words I thought I would never hear from her. “Are you sure you want to go through with this?”
At this I abruptly became infuriated with my wife. Her constantly shifting affections where she hated me one minute and the next loved me had left my emotions shredded. I mentally recanted my list of why the divorce had to happen while trying to maintain my fury. Financially we were ruined; she had spent everything I had ever made and then some. We fought constantly over money. She manipulated me and withheld her affection until I caved in to whatever it was she wanted. I could not go on like this. Reciting the list was not calming me down as I had hoped and since she was sitting there in front of me my rage exploded.
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Posted: Wed Mar 28, 2007 2:29 pm
I stood up abruptly, tipping the chair over and shouted at her. As I stood, towering over my wife, she sat there in stunned shock. I reached out and grabbed her by the wrist and ripped her from her chair. The chair crashed to the floor as I started dragging her towards the door. I yanked her up and shouldered the door open then stumbled toward my beat up car. At first she did nothing to stop me. She suddenly realized what was happening and began to kick and scream. She tried twisting out of my grasp, but I clamped down, squeezing her legs so that she couldn’t kick.
I planned to kill my wife.
All of her resistance was in vain. I forced her into my car and shoved her onto the floor. I then got into the driver’s side, taking the keys from my pocket and started it up.
As we sped along the road, I realized that she was crying. Huddled up in a little ball against the door panel she sniveled like a little mouse caught in a corner by its predator.
Without loosening my clenched hands on the steering wheel, or even taking my eyes off the road I growled at her “Stop sniveling, you deserve this, you wretched woman…” She quieted down but continued sniffling and softly crying. The only sounds that could be heard were her and the car’s motor.
Finally we reached a rural area; trees and fields could be seen on both sides of the car. I pulled over in a slight ditch. Reaching behind the front seat I dug around in the back of the car for a moment before finding what it was that I wanted--a knife that I always kept for protection.
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Posted: Wed Mar 28, 2007 2:32 pm
The next day, on every local news channel, pictures of my wife and I could be seen. The fight that had commenced that night was brutal. New pictures appeared after the old, happy ones showing our bodies torn and dirty. My wife’s face was streaked with blood and tears, as well as scratch marks from her own nails. She seemed to still be crying, whimpering, just as she had in our car the night before. But then, how should I know?
Her body, as limp as mine, was carried out of the ditch where she had fell. The medics placed her on a stretcher and put her in the back of a white vehicle marked “Cherry Valley Emergency Services” printed in plain black lettering on the side.
One of the two dozen policemen on the scene, and one that I knew personally, stood off to the side watching. He shook his head in disgust, “What a horrible tragedy this is.” All those around him grimly shook their heads in agreement. “When did the medics say she would be able to answer our questions?” my friend asked.
One of the other cops standing near him answered, “They said she lost a lot of blood, but there weren’t any broken bones or internal damage. The knife must have missed vital organs…The medics said we would be able to interrogate her in about a couple of weeks.”
“Hmm. Well it’s too bad this had to happen, it really is a shame, he was such a nice guy, and no he's gone...”
Das Ende.
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