What Once I Was

Chapter 22 - Wendy

Evidence doesn't lie. That's what they always say on true crime documentaries. I wish someone had told me that or encouraged me to watch these shows. The evidence does not lie.

I hadn't thought about what evidence I might have left behind. Hadn't considered what tiny fragment might connect back to me. I had felt invincible. For fifteen years, I had been able to live my life, the life I had wanted for so long, with nobody ever suspecting a thing. The perfect crime.

I could see in Ben and Gary's faces that time was catching up to me. The gates were inching together, holding the promise of a life locked away. I just prayed it would not be my life. I hoped they had taken every word I'd said into consideration, that they'd stick true to the age old stereotype. A woman like me could never do something so heinous. They had to believe it was all Robert, that I was merely a victim of circumstance.

Who wouldn't look at my husband as he towered over me and envision a monster? Especially not when they had heard my tale. It was perfect. I had it in the bag. Of course, I would play the grieving mother. I would sob on national television, telling the world how I never suspected a thing. I'd visit him in prison, just the once. A moment of my life to put on a big show for the inmates he would spend his life with. Let them take matters into their own hands. They would never allow him to walk about unscathed after killing our daughter and abusing his wife. I would be free. 

I look at the two men in the room, utterly convinced that I would be walking out the door, squinting in the light after so much time in darkness. I would see Robert in handcuffs, confusion spread across his puppy dog face. He would look at me, call out for help, beg me to do something. He would protest his innocence as an officer pushed him forward towards his new life. I would stand and watch it all unravel, a smile on my face and a slight wave of hand. I would do nothing else. 

Ben whispers something in Gary's ear, their eyes planted firmly on me. This is it. The moment I've worked towards. They're going to release me. Any second now.

"You're quite the storyteller, aren't you, Mrs Collins?" He fumbles about in a box beneath the table, looking for something I assumed would help my case. "Why don't you try telling us the truth this time?"

Reality ripped my breath from me as I take in the contents of one of the ziplock bags in Ben's hands. A pale green notebook covered in an intricate floral design sits lopsided inside. I should have burnt that thing when all this had started.

"How did you-?" My mouth dries as it all sinks in. Ben and Gary knew. This entire time, they knew everything and had just strung me along.  

"Your husband made sure we had it. He was never the abusive one, was he, Mrs Collins? It was always you."

"No, I- I wasn't! It was him. He abused me. I swear to you!"

"Does this look like the injuries of a man who wasn't abused to you?" He shoves the contents of the second ziplock bag in my direction.

A black folder bulging with paperwork inside. I'd never seen it before in my life. I watch as Ben takes out page after page and lays them in front of me. Photographs and hospital records. Robert's body was black and blue, covered in deep gashes. Fracture, head injury, broken femur. The words jump out at me. I thought he had convinced the hospital that these injuries were a result of an accident, that he was a clumsy oaf!

"No! You - you don't understand. He - he should have loved me. He should have paid attention to me. It's her fault. She - she - she stole him from me. She made me do this. He was mine first!"

"She was a child! An innocent little girl whose mother was meant to love and protect her above everything else. You were meant to keep her safe!" The venom in Ben's voice cuts deep.  

"You don't know what it was like. She was always there, creeping around, clinging to him like a leech. It was sick. I am his wife! I should have been his number one priority. Not her!"

They look at me full of disgust. The room closes in around me, clanging shut with no way out. I want to scream. To bang my fists against the wall and beg to be released. My fists hit the table, the anger and shock numbing any pain. I don't deserve any of this.

"You're going away for a very long time, Mrs Collins." He studies my face. "You just don't feel any remorse, do you?"

I spit at him, the white foam dripping off his eyebrow. He scowls, wiping it away with a tissue.

"I should have killed her when she was born. I should have killed them both. He's mine! Mine!"

Ben turns to Gary, his face red, vein bulging at his temple.

"Get her out of here."

"No! No! I didn't mean it. It's not true! I didn't do anything. It was all Robert!"

I kick my legs, thrusting my weight backwards as Gary tries to escort me out of the room. With all the strength I can muster, I latch on to the door frame, nails lifting away from the bed as I dig them deep into the paintwork. I bite, headbutt, spit, kick. Anything to get him off me. More officers race to his defence, armed with batons.

"Get off me! Get the fuck off! Help! Somebody help!"

All eyes are on me. Some snigger, others lower their gaze, pretending I don't exist. That I'm not single-handedly trying to take on four officers. It doesn't take them too long to subdue me, to wrestle me on the ground. Copper fills my mouth as my head bounces off the concrete. And then I see them. 

The nerve of them both, standing there, Robert's arm around her shoulders. He did this to me. He's the reason I'm in this mess. Him and that bitch.

"You fucking traitor!" I spit, pushing upward against the bodies atop me. "You fucking coward. I'll kill you! You and that little slut. I'll kill you both!"

I twist my neck, refusing to take my eyes off them as I'm dragged down a hall. Twin B's face is white as she picks at her nail polish. Oh, how I wish I could scoop her eyes from their sockets, wrap my hands around her skinny neck and watch as the life drains from her.

I would be back. One day I would be out of this hellhole Robert had left me in. And when that day came, I would find her. I would hunt her down and destroy her. Destroy everything she held dear. I would make her watch as I took a knife to the throat of every man, woman, and child that she loved. I would make her beg for mercy, beg me to end her suffering. Only when she has felt but a morsel of the pain she and Naomi have caused me, will I put her to rest. Only then will I do what I should have over twenty years ago.

I would be back. I just need to wait.