The Night Before Halloween

Feet cold and covered in mud, I creep upstairs, careful not to wake anyone.  My rich black bang dripped at the tip of my nose of what felt like syrup.  All I wanted was to wash the stench of tonights events.  Yet something drew me to it, some part of me even wanted to reendulge in it.  I longed to see that pool of cherry red.  I could remember how it flowed like water from his veins.   It replayed over and over, as if from a broken record.  I couldn't unsee it or undo it.  It was already too late and I was okay with that.

Rehashing someone's nightmare, seemed to have gave me such pleasure.  Everytime I seen the walls painted with red, I felt releived.  At first scared, anxious and even sad ending in satisfaction and relief.  I've done away with the constant ringing in my ear.  I no longer hear voices mumbling and whispering.  For once there's silence.  Silence I wish will never go away.  The type of peace I once longed for is now all mine.

Every night I laid by his side, I would silently fight a war in my mind.  Chatters of doing away with him danced around in my head, long before the abuse started.  Part of me wanted to be slung around the house and even smackedd to the floor.  I was so used to this happening that I grew attached to this feeling.  Feelings of passion were what they felt like later.  The make up sex would be so great, making me forget about all the bumps and bruises.  This man loved me and I loved him.  He just had a funny way of showing it.  Something I became accustom to after feeling it from the hands of others before.

I remember vividly as if it was yesterday, taking what seem would be my last breath.  So many times the brutual force against my cheeks, eyes and nose.  Boot marks were now lessions of me doing wrong.  Tims were his way of saying he loves me and will never leave me.  I heard it all before but this time was different, at least that's what I convinced myself.  One more nightmare was all I had to endure, to have my happily ever after.  After all I deserved all of it, I wasn't perfect.  I remember even begging and crying for him to hitt me, before it all started.

He would wipe my tears, squeeze me tight and promise to never put his hands on me.  Claiming not to be any of the cowards I had before.  Yet here I am shivering and stiff in his blood.  Nothing prepared me to finally have to stand up for myself.  I always felt weak, defenseless and hopeless. Yet this night before Halloween was different.  Something scratched at my mind that whole night, creeping around anxiously.  It was a feeling I never felt before.

That feeling I had before tug and pulled at me all night.  It was as if it wanted to break right through me, leaving me so confused.  Where did this sense of urgency come from?  Why after all this time did I want to fight back.  Year after year, fist after fist, hospital trips after another.  Why was this Halloween any different than the others?  With every blow it was harder to resist.  It was only a moment of time before enough was enough.

Before I knew it the wire from the lamp on the night stand became entagled with my knuckles.  I teeter tottered it just enough to distract him. For once fear didn't engulf me.  Nor did I care that my lip was tainted with my own blood.  I didn't want to run and hide under self pity, I wanted to fightt. Revenge ran it's ugly course, every moment after.

My imagination toyed with all the ways I could pay him back.  Karma was a bih and I wanted him to know first hand.  Laying lifeless as he had my hair wrapped around his knuckles, my feet dragged as if I had given up.  Yet he had no idea what was instore for him.  He could've left well enough alone, but he had something to prove.  He still thought I was weak when I struckk him accross the jaw earlier. That was cool with me, I wanted him to continue to underestimate me.

Every blow lead to his own demize.  I remember destinctively coming about after he thought he won.   One knee after another I rose up, "That's all you got?!"  It was then I had the upper hand because I made him feel like nothing when he gave it his all.  I knew he was tired even though he played it off like he wasn't.  Pots and pans were tossed at his head to give me enough time to orchestrate a plan.  I was able to grab a butccher kniffe from our kitchen set we got from our engagement gift my mom gave us.  She never trusted or cared for him, but supported my decision to marry this idiot.

This was it, the man I planned to spend the rest of my life with had to go.  At this point it was either him or me.  Barely able to breathe, I slashhed his stomach with no regrets.  He held his torso and slowly moved about.  I stumbled closer to him careful not to crush another rib.  Then I attempted to pounce on him, instead landed face first.  He got over me and tossed me over with the one hand he had free.  I screamed in agony from all the torment from earlier that night.   Managing to mustard up enough strength to snatch away from him.  Bewilderment stained his face as he gushed on the floor from defeat lodged in his chest.  Slouched and lifeless his veins rained upon my face.  It was all over, I no longer needed saving.  A few bumps and bruises of that cold night before halloween, was nothing compared to every night before then.