HOUSEWIFE

'This meat is burnt!' The man slams his hands onto the dining table. 'I busted my ass off to get us some money and I can't come back to a good meal?! What is wrong with you?!'

'I'm sorry! Dennis was crying, so I had to...'

'Forget it! I'm ordering pizza!' He wipes his mouth and stands up. 'What do you want, boys?'

The kids start flocking him with their favorite pizza. I look at the leftover steaks on the table. I look beside me and find Dennis, my youngest, only a year old, eating messily. I smile and wipe his mouth with the napkin. He looks at me and smiles sweetly. I stroke his head lovingly.

To me, a family is a home. It's supposed to be warm, loving, supportive, and healing. Now, all of those thoughts has fly out of the window. My name is Marguerite, Mary for short. I'm a housewife. I used to work as an interior designer, until my first son was born. I took a maternity leave. Originally, I planned to get back to work a few months or a year after he was born, but my husband, Arthur, convinced for me to be a stay-at-home mother. 

Arthur is an honest and straightforward man. He could be stubborn, but he's really diligent. As a result, he managed to get promoted as a department head in a mining company. Feeling that we have enough money to live comfortably, he convinced me to be a housewife. People might think he's trying to manipulate me, and I would disagree with them. Parenting is hard, and I'm just relieved to have a burden off my brain. However, I'm starting to think those people were right.

'Orion, please don't eat and play your phone at the same time,' I awkwardly ask the boy across me.

'Hn,' he only grunts in response.

My first son, Orion, is a 14 year old teenager. He's a regular of his middle school's basketball team. I used to be worried about his grades when he joined the basketball team, but so far, he's able to handle it. He excels at biology, but struggles in literature. It's expected. Sitting down quietly and reading are just not his forte. As a teenager, who is going through puberty, he's been a little snappy and hard to understand lately.

'Let him, Mom. Maybe he'll eat his phone too.' A younger boy with glasses sarcastically chimes in.

'Real scary, shrimp.'

Despite his small frame, my second son, Leon is pretty annoying. At least, that's what people think. In my opinion, he's critical. He has a strong opinion and is not afraid to voice them. It's a good trait, but it comes with a price. He lacks decency. Frankly speaking, Leon is dense. He can't read the room and tends to hurt people with his opinion. Overall, I'm impressed that my 10 year old son can be this vocal.

'Mommy, can I have a slice of the pepperoni pizza?' The last boy asks sweetly.

'Here you go, dear.' With a smile, I give him a slice of pizza.

My second youngest is only 6 years old. In fact, he's just got into the elementary school two months ago. He's a real good boy, never got into trouble. Although they thought that he's a little quiet in kindergarten, his teachers are all fond of him. I'm a bit worried for him though. Sometimes, I think that he lacks emotion. I hope that it'll change with time.

All six of us live in a decent suburban home. It's a really lovely home. Three bedrooms and two bathrooms. Two stories, with a pretty high ceiling. It has a quite spacious living room and some space in the back, where I grow some herbs and flowers. My favourite place is the living room. It's cozy and has a nice view outside, so I decorated some of the walls with rose-patterned wallpaper.

'What is wrong with you lately?' I don't appreciate my husband's tone when we're finally alone in the bedroom. 'Last night, you misplaced my shirt. Today, you burnt our dinner! Is there something you wanted to tell me?'

'I don't know, Arthur. I just....feel so exhausted. Everyday, I wake up, take care of you all, and then the house, the laundry, the-'

'Really? Because of some housework?' He puts his hands on his hips. 'My mother raised 8 children while maintaining a grocery store, AND YOU can't even cook a dinner right?'

'I said I'm sorry!' I look down and hug myself. 'Just forget it.'

'No no no' Somehow, Arthur seems scarier than usual. 'Let's talk about it!' He stares at me. 'I work my ass off from nine to five I come home expecting a warm welcome and you can't even give me A PROPER MEAL. Yet, YOU STILL COMPLAINT ABOUT BEING EXHAUSTED'

I take a step back when he starts shouting. 'It's not like that....'

'THEN WHAT IS IT?' He throws his hands into the air. 'Am I upsetting you? Tiring you? Do you think we are a burden to you?'

'NO! Gosh! Would you please listen to me?'

'I'm listening! I'm listening to you complaint about your GOOD LIFE!' His eyes are starting to turn mad. 'You got food, a roof, a comfortable life provided BY ME, and all I ask is you take care of the house and YOU CAN'T EVEN DO THAT!'

'Just...forget it.' I don't want to drag this any longer. I feel like my heart is bleeding. My eyes are stinging with tears, threatening to fall. He's starting to really scare me. I try not to look at him and go to the bathroom, but he grabs my arm.

'Forget it? Why? Are you feeling stupid now? Do you see how stupid you sound now?'

'Arthur...please....' He pulls me in front of him and grips my shoulders hard. He's staring right into my eyes.

'You disgust me,' he says before pushing me down onto the floor. 'Ungrateful bitch,' he spits out and walks away.

I'm trembling. My whole body is trembling with a mix of fear and anger. I'm afraid that he'll start hitting me. He is a 180 cm tall man with a decent built. He's not that muscular, but he has some healthy fat on him. Compared to me, who is a 160 cm tall and slightly chubby girl, he's clearly bigger than me. I'm afraid that he'll kill  me. On the other hand, I'm done with his insults. I'm done with him treating me as a slave that he can order around and step on everyday. I refused to be treated lower than this.

'I'm leaving' I stand up and take my bag with me.'

'What did you say?'

Without looking up at him, I repeat myself. 'I'm leaving'

'OH! You're crying back to mummy aren't you? You just-'

Arthur keeps talking and insulting me, as I stuffed my bag. I pack my phone, my wallet, few clothes, and underwear. Meanwhile, Arthur keeps following me as he yells about me and throwing some profanities. My ears are hot, but I keep stuffing my bag. It goes like that, until I zip up my bag. 

'Are you listening to me?' He growls as he corners me on the wall

'I'm not listening to someone who won't listen to me.' 

My answer is firm. I'm not backing down this time. I glare at him, directing all of my anger at him. I'm getting out of here. I'll take the kids if they want to. If they prefer to stay here then, at the very least, I'm taking Dennis with me. If I leave, Arthur will probably ask his mother to take care of the boys. I'm not worried, she loves the boys. However, I think that making her care for a year old on top of the boys would be too much for an 80 year old lady. 

'You're no good now.'

His voice, which is barely a whisper, snap me out of my plan. Everything happens so fast. Before I can react, a large hand shoves me backwards, hard. Instead of a big hard thud on the wall, I hear a crash. For a moment, I feel like I am floating in the air. Then, a big gust of wind blew from below me and then I feel it. A big thud as I fall into the cold stone pathway in front of the house. 

I can't feel anything, no pain, not even my own limbs. My breathing is hitched. I gasp for air, but no air seem to enter my nose or mouth. I try to scream, but no sound comes out. It's as if i have forgotten how to speak altogether. From the corner of my eyes, I can see Arthur looking down at me, before everything goes black.