Daisy's P.O.V.
My heavy eyelids separated, revealing my plain white ceiling. I tilted my head, which, at the moment felt like it was splitting in half due to the bright lights, forward to find myself on my couch and under the blanket I always used for the loveseat. This wasn't right. I slid back up, now leaning against the arm of the couch, then looked to the right to find that the TV was off. I put my shaking right hand on my head, my heart strangely beating rapidly.
"Oliver?" I shouted loudly, wondering if he was home.
"Yes, my dear?" I heard him answer.
"When did you get home?" I inquired, watching him walk into the living room.
"Silly darling, I've been home!"
"Oh, so you don't have work today, right?"
Just as I thought he would reply, he went eerily silent. I could see his eyes go wide, the whites above and below his iris now showing between his top and bottom eyelids.
"So that's all I am to you?" he asked sharply.
"What?"
"That's all I am to you, huh. Some workhorse you can just whip and whip until I drop fucking dead."
"I never said that, I was just asking-"
"You were just asking, oh, so that makes everything alright. I'm SO glad you told me this, Daisy. I'm so glad you were just asking. Thank you. Thank. You."
My head now felt like someone was driving an axe into the top of it; I didn't have time for this today.
"Oliver, I don't know why you're upset. I didn't mean to insult you or anything, can we please just calm down?"
"Calm down? CALM DOWN? YOU THINK I CAN CALM DOWN? EVERY FUCKING DAY I WORK MY ASS OFF SO WE CAN HAVE A ROOF OVER OUR HEADS AND OUR CHILDREN CAN EAT, AND YOU WANT ME TO CALM DOWN? Y'know, all you do is nag. Nag. Nag. Nag. All I hear is, 'Oliver, you shouldn't be doing this,' and, 'Oliver, can you please do th-'"
"You're being really stupid right now, ok? You need to calm down, maybe lay off the meth for a little while."
He turned red and charged towards me. I put my hands in front of my face in defense, but he still managed to punch me in my right temple. Everything became blurry, and I could see darkness start to spread from my peripheral vision. To my surprise, I stayed awake, and I didn't start crying. A wave of rage overwhelmed me, and I forgot about my hangover. I jumped up from the couch and scratched at his face, screaming furiously. He yelled, as if to push me back with the volume of his voice, and kicked me in the leg. I ignored the pain and tackled him, then wrapped my hands around his neck.
"YOU BITCH," he said between his teeth, choking, "I'LL KILL YOU!"
In response, I let out an ear-splitting scream. He clawed at my neck and pulled my hair, but I only choked him harder. Clenching his eyelids together, he pushed me off of him with his legs. I fell on my back, but quickly scrambled backward before he could hurt me.
"YOU LITTLE CUNT," he yelled, then attempted to jump on top of me. Fortunately, I had already begun to stand up. I leapt back once more, this time on my feet, and ran to the other side of the room.
I found myself next to one of our endtables; a green lamp, a picture frame with me and Oliver at the Grand Canyon (it had previously shown me, Oliver, and Arseny at the Canyon, but Oliver folded back the third my son was in.), the remote to our television, some documents I hadn't looked through, and, strangely, a steak knife.
I pushed my hair back from my face and tucked a few strands behind my ears as my body recalled the excruciating migraine I had. Oliver walked forward, but I picked up the steak knife.
"Don't come near me, don't come near me, DON'T COME NEAR ME," I threatened, my grip on the knife tightening.
I could see anger turn into surprise on his face. He took a step back.
"I'll stab you, I'll stab you. I'm done, Oliver, I'm done. I can't do it anymore, I wake up every day and I want to die. I can't do it anymore," big, salty tears pooled in my eyes, I blinked and they rolled down to my chin.
"You're gonna leave me?" his rage returned.
"I don't know, ok? How can we make this work? Look at us,"
"YOU DISLOYAL BITCH," he shouted. I screamed back, picked up the picture frame, and threw it at him. He curled up in defense, but it hit him in the side and the glass broke on impact.
I began searching for something else to throw at him, then picked up an empty wine glass on the floor below the table and hurled it at him next. Unfortunately, it missed and hit the wall. However, dozens of little shards of glass bounced off the wall and rained on him instead. He groaned in agony and lifted his reddened face. My head felt like it was being sawed in half at the moment.
The doorbell rang. We both looked at each other in simultaneous panic, then I motioned for him to answer it; the police would be called if they saw a woman with scratch marks on her face and tears in her eyes, and Oliver could hide the cuts on his arms. Hopefully I hadn't bruised his neck. I ran to the kitchen before my husband opened the door.
I heard a man say, "Hey, Oliver!" heartily, yet cautiously.
"Oh hey, John! How are the kids?" Oliver replied, panting.
"Oh, you know, they're growing up so fast these days. All caught up in their college business, it's nice to finally have moments to myself," the two chuckled lightly. My breathing was gradually speeding up.
"So," Oliver began, "what brings you to our humble abode, John?"
"I just heard some loud noises, and I wanted to make sure you guys were ok," our neighbor explained.
"Oh yeah, we're just watching a thriller, a 2020 movie called 'Unhinged.' You should watch it, it's really intense!" he lied, smoothly.
"Oh! Well that's good to hear. I'm glad you guys are safe, and hey, maybe I will watch that one. Alright well, take care now, buddy," I sighed in relief.
"You, too, now!" and the door immediately slammed shut. I slowly came out from behind the corner and stepped into the mess of a living room.
"Jeez, what a busybody," Oliver laughed and pointed at the door with his thumb. I didn't reply, I was too shaken from our tussle.
I walked back into the kitchen and grabbed a broom leaning against the door to the pantry. I went into the living room and made my way to where I had thrown the frame and the glass. I began sweeping the mess up as I heard Oliver walking to the babies' room.
