Sally

My face smashed against the slits, watching your slim figure disappear. It had become a routine. After I made breakfast, your hands would slowly slide up my slip and I would shut my eyes, squeeze them until it was over. Then you would throw me in the closet. One day I tried to hide under our couch so maybe you would forget to lock me up. But you remembered and yelled until I came out. So, today, I sit in the closet and my finger itches. The wedding ring you gave me is fake. A fake metal that is turning my finger blue and suffocating my skin. And when my vision starts to adjust to the small, dark, place I glare at the same row of beige shirts. Your boring work shirts. I wish I could work. I know I should be thankful because that’s what he tells me, “You are lucky you have a good husband who goes out and works for you, now get over here and show me how much you appreciate me.” But I don’t like to think about that and I scold my mind for going back to that place. I know, I know I am lucky. You are lucky Sally, so lucky. Daddy used to give me the same red marks around my wrists and my neck. They were always going to be there. And at the end of the day when the red would fade to purple, I would pray for tomorrow. Wherever I would go I would have purple to remind me and his words, “You deserve it, you dirty slut”, but my husband always did it with a grin, that was the only difference. And he said that he did it because he loved me. 

So that's why I picked up the gun, because of the purple marks, and scars that still hurt, and how familiar the closet feels. I kicked down the dresser that blocked the closet, and all of our decorations that simply served as distractions cracked on the floor; and they were shattered, but I was more shattered than them. It had gone on too long and I had enough. The gun, alone under our bed. For having such power it was so still and heavier than I expected. And now we wait for you to come home. Your gun on my lap. I wondered what you would say to me. Or what mood you would show up in. Today was the first day that felt new.