Creak, push, slam. I push the door open as quietly as I can, but fail to succeed at achieving silence.
Richard is on the couch, a bottle in his hand.
"Where were you, Vic?" He says in a way I could only describe as a drunk, passive aggressive tone. He stands up and grabs my throat with his callous-covered hands.
"I was worried SICK, Vic! Ha, that rhymes! Now, where the hell were you?!"
"Richard, I told you I would be with my friends tonight."
"That's a lie, Vic. I can smell that you're lying. I know you were with another man, okay! You don't have to bloody, well, lie to ME!"
Well, I would be with another man if I could! I don't want to be with an angry, violent drunk!
I say the truth, "I'm not lying, Richard."
"DON'T LIE TO ME AGAIN! You were with another man, and I'm darn sure of it!"
"No. I didn't cheat."
"You're", he tightens the grip on my neck, "a", he tightens the grip even more, "LIAR!" and then I can't breath.
Seconds later, I feel the sudden bang of my body against the hardwood floor. My husband has thrown me onto the floor.
"Mum!" I hear Aubrey shout to me.
"Honey, go-
"Oh, hi, Aubrey, your mother has had a little accident, go back to bed now." Richard interrupts with the smoothest tone he can manage, which is about as smooth as gravel.
"No! Dad, that's not true!"
"Aubrey-
"Mum, stand up-
"AUBREY!! GET OUT!!" Richard screams, and reaches for his bottle.
Oh no.
He stammers towards Aubrey and raises his bottle, and just as he is about to hit her head, I run in front of her, and glass shatters onto my head, and with the remnants of the bottle, get stabbed in the chest.
A pool of blood appears on the ground.
My husband has just killed me.
YOU ARE READING
A Tale of a Mother, a Daughter, a Murder, a Funeral and Pikelets.
JugendliteraturA funeral, the centre point of the roller coaster that only seems to go down for Aubrey and her family. A tragedy strikes that changes everything, from her Dad's drinking habits to her grandmother's baking. This is Bianca's masterpiece, with differe...
