A Death Unsuspicious
by Arden Jones
(Trigger Warning: Domestic Abuse, Violence, Death, Murder, Suicide)*
“Hi. It’s just me…
I’m sorry OK!
I just wish that you wouldn’t make me feel this way.”
He really can’t help it. A moment of madness
Drowns him in darkness, a blackness… a sadness.
The eggshells I walk on pierce sharp with disdain.
The next day he’s better, he’s happy again.
I pack up my clothes. I threaten to leave.
He pulls out the ace he has stuffed up his sleeve.
“I love you. I’m sorry. I need you to stay.
I can’t live without you. Don’t leave me this way.
I’ll change. I… I promise. Things won’t stay the same.
I’ll do it. I swear. And you’ll be to blame.”
I stay, like he’d planned. He knows me too well.
And for days, sometimes weeks, I’m no longer in hell.
He loves me; he does. He shows me each day.
With flowers and presents, he knows what to say.
A tongue colored silver and slippery as sin,
Weaves into my heart where his love had once been.
The pattern continues. A bruise and black eyes.
The promise of love wrapped in evil’s disguise.
“I love you. I’m sorry. I need you to stay.
I can’t live without you. Don’t leave me this way.
I’ll change. I… I promise. Things won’t stay the same.
I’ll do it. I swear. And you’ll be to blame.”
I’m beaten and broken. Too weak to fight back.
And when he’s asleep, I decide to go pack.
A creak of the floorboards, a hold of my breath.
The ‘rrrip’ of the zip is a warning of death.
Stand still… Do not move and do not make a sound.
No time has passed, yet I’m pinned to the ground.
“Who is he?” he screams. “You dirty, fat whore!”
My head cracks and burns as it’s smashed to the floor.
His hands clench my throat. He spits in my face.
“You’re a tramp. You’re a slut. You’re a fucking disgrace!”
Then darkness sets in. I no longer feel pain.
A light calls my name and I’m happy again.
A thump on my heart. A warmth fills my chest.
“Don’t leave me. Don’t die. I just get so stressed.
If you die, I promise, I’ll kill myself too.”
He screams as he presses and pushes on through.
Light turns to darkness. Again, I feel pain.
My abuser’s the only one calling my name.
With a strength I’ve not known, I push him away.
I need to leave now; he can’t make me stay.
In life and in death, his power is lost.
No matter what happens, if death is the cost,
He’ll be all alone, with no one who cares.
Just memories of us and the hate that he shared.
“I love you. I’m sorry. I need you to stay.
I can’t live without you. Don’t leave me this way.
I’ll change. I… I promise. Things won’t stay the same.
I’ll do it. I swear. And you’ll be to blame.”
“Just do it. I’m done. I couldn’t care less.”
My voice has come back in a faint, raspy mess.
“Don’t tempt me!” he says. “I’ll take them!” he shakes -
A pack full of Prozac, defiant he takes…
One, then another, again and again.
Our eyes lock together, both fixed on his pain.
A lifetime between us swirls round in my head.
He stumbles, collapses, falls onto our bed.
A slice of the knife, I drag down to his wrist.
The last gasp of breath from the lips I once kissed.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper to eyes open wide.
A death unsuspicious.
Death by suicide…**
Copyright: Arden Jones
*If you are a victim of abuse, there are organisations that can help you. Please click here to be taken to a list of services for both women, men and children who are experiencing, or have experienced abuse.
**This is a work of fiction. By no means do I encourage victims of abuse to take matters into their own hands.