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I stood over his sleeping body, knife in one hand and ring on the other. Today is our 3rd anniversary but it always felt like a funeral. It's funny how smiles always mask cries. When I first met him he played the role of a chivalrous man. As time faded so did the colors of his mask. My prince charming turned into every villain in every fairytale I ever came across. If only the witch looked like a witch poison wouldn't have entered the system of too many undeserving girls. So, I'm standing here, knife in one hand and ring on the other. The only way to escape his wrath is to make a body, a story, an example of him. Charles feeds off of the consumption of other people's lungs. He had a talent for making everyone around him feel small and weak. He can make the ground shake by through simply walking through the house door. I am now left with saving myself and my unborn baby or letting Charles live. As I stand here I wonder if this is what feels like to be a god. To take a life, no matter how evil it is, can place the burden of mountains on shoulders that can barely carry the weight of a backpack. I replay my options in my head. If I stay, he will kill us. If I leave he will find me and kill me or take my baby away from me which will kill me more than a grip tightening around my neck. You’re probably thinking why don't you call the cops? It is not that easy when you're in a small town and your abuser, I mean husband, is friends with anything that either has a gun or power. When the man you sleep with inherited the factories in town, his collapse also means the collapse of innocent families. Calling the cops for help would only be interpreted as a "bored wealthy young woman seeking attention". They expect me to be grateful for knife scars on my neck that remind me that I am alive, that I escaped. I only escaped because maintenance was there to fix the bathroom sink that day. That's why I'm always breaking things around the house, the maintenance guy is now a savior, a god in my eyes. This god though has a five-day work schedule. I wonder what will happen on Sunday but today is Friday. I have to make a choice because there is a knife in one hand and a ring on the other.

Goodnight Charles.


Image of New beginnings

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