Goat

Part III - Moonlight

He came a day later, to cleanse me of my filth, but I fought him more than usual. He did manage to get me to succumb to him, but not without a few scratches. He told me to let go of Olivia, who I still held close to my chest, her bones cracking under the pressure of my hold. I pulled my arms out, but kept hold of Olivia. I looked at her the entire time he bathed me, as if it was possible that if I looked hard enough, long enough, she would come back to me. But of course, she wouldn't - she didn't.

Days later, I looked at him, and something was off - physically, that is. He looked paler, and his eyes didn't look so bright anymore. Suddenly, I started to think it was my fault; my husband, the man who should be the love of my life, was becoming more of a monster each time I saw him.
One day, I began to cry. I wanted so badly to plead with him to just let me go, kill me even, and my lack of tongue became even more frustrating. I even tried to speak, but the pain was unbearable, so I cried even harder, holding my mouth. He pet my head and left.
Every other day, he would come back, and each time he looked more sickly; and I would always cry and try to plead with him, and he would always just pet my head and leave.

One night, I snapped - I'd had enough. I stood, Olivia still in my arms, and looked around the barn. It was hard to see, but the moonlight shone through a window above. I realised I'd have to leave my precious precious Olivia, and shed a few tears as I laid her on one corner of the barn.
I stacked a box and two barrels and climbed up, and almost got to the window, but the stack wobbled, and I fell. When I opened my eyes, I saw him before me. This time I held back the tears, though.