My life was boring, correction my life was miserable.
Two months passed since my wedding day,two months since I had any contact with my mother,I didn't particularly care for my father, not after what he did.
My husband was an important man.
That was another thing I learnt about him, when we went to the military base in the city, people stood up as soon as he entered the room, they stood still and saluted him.
Colonel Thomas Edward Johnson
Another thing I learnt about him was that he was fifteen years older than me, making him thirty three. Other than that I didn't know anything about the man.
He was very quiet, kept to himself and was always focused on his work. He wasn't a romantic either, no flowers or grand romantic gestures not that I expected any. When he wanted to make love he would just ask me to join him in the bedroom, no grand seduction. I would take off my clothes and he would climb on top of me,it became more like a chore.
Though despite all of that I was kind of grateful, he never yelled at me, never swore at me and never hit me. So yes my marriage was an unhappy one but it could be worse.
He had hired an English teacher for me and my proficiency in the language was slightly better.
"Have a wonderful day, Mrs Johnson". My teacher Raisa said, I nodded smiling at her.
"Thank you". I replied in English as I led her out of the door. I sighed as I closed the door behind me as I looked at the large room.
I had nothing to do, the hotel maids took care of cleaning and room service took care of our meals.
So the only thing I did was have my English lessons and sometimes watch television. My husband was kind enough to join me for every meal though he never said a word.
I still had no idea why he married me.
All he did was keep me locked up and rarely spent anytime with me since he was always working, when he wasn't working he never said anything to me, just watched sports on television whilst drinking his whiskey and pass out thereafter.
I settled on the couch putting on the television, my head snapped in the direction of the door when I heard it open and my husband walked in.
"Saare". He greeted.
"Thomas". I replied watching him slip his coat off. He was dressed in a plain white t shirt and jeans, his tattooed muscular arms on display. He took a seat next to me spreading his legs as his arms rested on the top of the couch.
"How was your day?". He asked.
"Good umm how your day?". I replied, he nodded.
"Good". He replied. My attention went back to the television and we once again sat in silence
Later we went down for supper in the dining area. After that I went to bed alone whilst my husband went on with his work.
I was a very lonely woman, I was constantly surrounded by people yet I was alone.
I was in the sixth month into my marriage, the war was still ravaging my home but I was stuck in some fancy hotel with people kissing my behind because I married a powerful man.
Thomas had been gone for a little over a month, he was needed in the frontline. It was odd not having him around though he never talked I had gotten used to his warm body when we slept. Sometimes he would wrap his arms around me and pull me into his chest. In a strange way, that made me feel safe from my nightmares,I knew that also made him feel safe from his own nightmares.
His were worse than mine.
I remember in the fourth month into our marriage I was woken up by a scream coming from the bathroom. Driven by adrenaline I rushed to open the door where I found my husband on the floor, shaking, crying. He looked like he was in a trance, a nightmare of a trance.
He managed to calm down after a while informing he had forgotten to take his medication and apologised. I never asked what the medication was for and we never spoke of the incident again.
Nor the other two times it happened.
Though he'd warned me to stay away from him when he was in that state, I wondered if he was scared he might hurt me but never inquired.
Thomas has never shown me signs that he was a violent man, but I'd heard stories about him, he was feared and according to some people not only for his power.
He was heavily awarded for his involvement in the Persian Gulf war and the Bosnian civil war, the latter earning him his rank. The youngest colonel in the U.S marine corps.
I never asked him anything about his work, one trait I noticed about my husband was that he was a very private man. Everytime he took me out to meet some of his friends and colleagues the ones who were not at the wedding party were shocked that he had a wife.
A young Ethiopian wife.
I was seated on the couch watching some random show on television when I heard the door knob twist, the door opened revealing my husband.
He looked terrible.
His eyes were red with dark circles underneath, he looked like he had lost a bit of weight, judging by the way his uniform was slightly loose and he looked pale.
"Thomas". I breathed and he nodded in acknowledgement before speaking.
"Saare". He replied. I didn't know how to react, was I suppose to run up to him and hug him. It's what the wives of military men did in my books but Thomas and I weren't like those couples from my books, we didn't marry for love. Besides my husband wasn't a romantic.
He sighed heavily as he took next to me before throwing his hand back. His hands were shaking and he was beginning to sweat. I just stared at him in fear, I didn't know what else to do, if he was having one of his moments I would have to run out of the room, out of his way as he advised me.
"Saare". His deep voice broke me out of thoughts. I nearly jumped out of my skin when my eyes made contact with his.
They looked crazed.
His pupils were dilated, his breathing was heavy and I could see that he was trying stop himself from shaking.
I was scared.
I wanted to get out of there, I didn't know if he was having one of his moments, I didn't know what he was capable of but I knew I had to get out of there. My eyes went around the room trying to find an escape.
"I'm not gonna hurt you". He said as tears flowed down my cheeks. A sob escaping from my mouth.
What did my father get me into?.
"I'm not gonna hurt you, please". My body stilled when he reached out to me, I tried fighting him off but it was futile he was much stronger. He pulled me into his chest wrapping his arms around.
"Please don't leave me". He begged holding me tighter as my body shook with sobs.
He had only shown me the surface of illness.
YOU ARE READING
Things were never the same
Short Story"I was nothing more than a pawn in a game played by men" To pay for her brother's university fees Saare Ahmed is forced into a marriage with a man nearly twice her age and who is nothing more than a stranger At sixteen years old Thomas Johnson joine...
