Monday, June 8, 2015

Story #5: "I Told You Not To Fall Asleep"

OK, so I'm a few days behind here. I don't know if I set any hard-and-fast "rules" for myself at the beginning of this #astoryaday June Writing Challenge endeavor or not, but if so I'll amend them thusly now. As long as I am able to write 30 original stories in 30 days, namely during the month of June, I am off the hook. This takes off any pressure I may put on myself to write something every single day, when the goal is not to stress myself out but to get me writing creatively again. So it's Day 8, and this is Story #5. Don't worry, the rest of the weekend's stories are right behind this one. Enjoy?  ~  JH

BLOGGER'S NOTE:  This story is written in a woman's voice – i.e., the protagonist (if you can call her that) is female. I don't do this often, but when I do it usually works out alright. This one took an expectedly violent turn, which I'm not entirely certain that I condone, though I do understand her motivations. I go where the character leads me, though, and this one led me here.

"I Told You Not To Fall Asleep"  (251 words)

Nine long years is nine too many. I'm taking back my life once and for all...

You probably thought it was an idle threat. You never listened to me anyway – if you did, you didn't take me seriously. I told you not to fall asleep, or you might not wake up again.

Many a night I spent, trying to stay awake, not knowing whether – whenever you decided to come home – you would be the thoughtful, sensitive man I married or the sadistic monster you all-too-quickly became afterwards.

Tonight, you sealed your fate. I didn't say or do anything to cause your latest outburst; but you never needed much of a fuse to explode anyway.

You fell asleep much earlier than usual. I sneaked out of bed, crept down the hall to the kitchen, and withdrew the widest, flattest cast iron pan in the cupboard. I wanted to make sure you never woke up again.

The pan was heavier than I'd anticipated. I hadn't cooked much on a regular basis lately, so I'd forgotten. I would definitely have to use two hands.

I looked at you sleeping, more peacefully than you had a right to. I contemplated saying goodbye, but knew I would only regret it later if I did.

I raised the pan over my head, reared back, and brought down the fury on your skull. And again. And again.

Seeing the crimson stain spread around your head didn't make me feel better. But it did make me feel free. Finally.

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