Collectanea

Freedom

"Enough with the 'death thoughts'," he said. "You're only making things worse."

As he lectured me of my depressing fantasies I glanced at the knife propped perfectly on the sink at his back. It shimmers. Inviting me to hold it, to touch it. His voice was drowned by my thoughts of how I could use that shiny thing.

'Tempting,' I thought. 'What a shame to just leave it lying there, unwanted, only to be used when needed.' I paused. 'Ah, it's just like me. Used but never cared for. What a shame.'

For ten long years I put up with him, my husband, my good-for-nothing husband. We were married for convenience. No love in between. No mutual understanding. Nothing. Just plain paper serving as evidence of our union.

I rue the day I married him. It was my downfall. From that day on, I was digging up my grave every single day. Now I know I will stop, for I'm done. It's deep enough for me to rest.

"- told you NO!" His voice echoed in my ears, bringing me back from my thoughts. "You're not leaving this house. You're not going to work for anyone! You understand me, you bitch? You will stay here, attend to all my needs. You will be my little submissive wife." He said while pointing his finger in my forehead.

I flinched. Sudden rush of blood came pouring in my head. They keep on coming, screaming to be set free. My eyes were blurry. I gritted my teeth.

Not thinking twice I pushed him and lunged at the knife behind him. Caught off-guard, he wasn't able to move. I took that chance and planted the sharp edge of the knife in his throat. Being a Grade school Science teacher way back was an advantage, I knew what veins to hit perfectly for him to have a slow yet sure death.

He gasped for air, blood trickles down his chest. "W-why? W-what have y-you done? I t-thought --"

"Well you thought wrong. I became suicidal, yes. But my mind still works. Now I'm free to walk away. Free from you and your sorry life you tried to locked me in. Now I can go." I whispered disgustedly, his eyes shocked.

"M-mommy?"

I glanced at the doorway and I saw my 2-year old son. I smiled at him.

"Mommy what happened? Why is Daddy like that?" He asked.

"S-son h-help Daddy," he whispered and raised his hand to touch my child. I pulled him back to me.

"Come baby, we're going to see your father in a bit. He's taking us to the ocean park like you asked me for."

I held my son's hand and went out of that house, never to return again.

-ds-
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