Adrian sat there, quietly, with her elbows on the dinning room table, and her hands on the back of her neck, softly messaging it, as she tried to not let her nerves get the best of her, even through there were tears running, slowly, down her face. It was the anniversary of the tenth year of her, and her husband’s marriage, and he promised he would come home early from work to celebrate it with her. He promised her that they would sit down, and talk about all the problems that arose during the last ten years. They would talk about the beatings, the alcohol, and the women. He always promised her this, but every year it was a let down.
She thought for some reason, though, that it would be different this year, but it seemed like the same thing will happen this year, like it did the year before, and the year before that one. He would stumble through the door, late at night, reeking all vodka, and cheap perfume, then he would slowly make his way to the frig, grab a beer, and go to pass out on the bed without noticing that pieces of her heart laid broken on the floor. She stood, slowly, from her sit, and made her way to the bathroom.
Once inside, she propped herself on the sink, by putting her hands on either side of it, and closed her eyes, trying to relax. She felt as if her legs were going to give out on her, because through the years, her statue has became weak ,and frail, possibly because she felt an empty feeling inside her heart, since the anger ,and frustration disappeared a good while back ,and she can’t remember if their was ever love that was there. She opened her eyes to look at herself in the mirror to see an empty shell of what she use to be. She was staring at a stranger with emotionless eyes. She couldn’t stand to look at herself for long, because it took her a little deeper into depression.
She moved her hand to open the medicine cabinet, and pulled out a small bottle containing blue and yellow pills that was to help her depression. A few hours of numbness was better than an entity of feeling regret, and sorrow. After taking one, she turned on the water, and cupped it into her hand. First, to have a sip, and then to splash on her face to try to wash away a bit of the bitterness just incase he did come home.
She then, lightly, patted her face dry, and reapplied her make-up. Mascara, blush, and a little lipstick seemed to cover up everything, blemish, and bruise alike. She examined herself, one more time, in the mirror, and noticed she almost looked like she did before she got married. Vivid, with features that stuck her between being pretty and beautiful and the only thing that made her beautiful was her child-like dimples, when she smiled.
She tried to smile to see if she could anymore, because it felt like the last time she did was forever ago, but every time she tried they turned out obscene, like she was trying to smile for the first time, without ever seeing a smile before. The final one seemed almost normal except it didn't reach her eyes. They stayed hazel pools of nothingness, that poured out her sorrow, and frustration to the world, and their was no amount of makeup that would hide that. She let the fake smile slide off her face, and then turned off the light, before walking out of the bathroom.
"Its 11:35 p.m., he gets off at 7:30, and he said he would get off at 5:00 to come home to me." She said to herself, as she stared at the clock on the wall in front of her. She was back at the seat; she started at, and has been now for two hours, without a single call or sign of him. "Maybe, maybe... he's out buying me a gift." she said in known denial, and laughed bitterly till their was tears running down her face to join the tears of anger that came before.” Why do I do this every year? "Why do I do this at all?" She thought as she lowered her head, slowly, onto her folded arms on the table. "I wish... I wish... sometimes that he would just stay away... and I would never see him again." She thought, and felt guilty for a moment. "Why do I feel this way?" Don't I love him?" She said to herself, and it made her wonder. Have I ever loved him at all? She fought about this question several times, and drawn up only blanks. "I remember long ago when I use to feel like I had butterflies in my stomach when he was around, but now I feel sick whenever he is near me".
She got up again from her waiting spot, and slowly made her way to their bedroom to lie down. She wasn't tried, but their wasn't anything else to do. She lay down on the bed, and curled up to the pillow, staring out into a room of darkness until her eyes fell onto a picture that sat on the night stand. It was half way casted in shadow, and the other half was light by the moonlight, which gave it an almost gloomy look that didn’t, at all; match the scene in the picture. It was of her, and her husband, Lenoir, on their wedding day. He, in black, stood there handsomely smiling, as he held her, in her ivory gown, in his arms. She was blushing madly, but there was a glow about it. Happiness. She leaned up on the bed, and took the pictures into her hands to examine it better. "How things change over time." she said as she felt anger and sadness because everything wasn't like it was in the picture anymore. "Love ,and happiness are only good when it's new ,and fresh ,because as they mature, it starts to decay, mold, and wither until what once made you the happiest, is what brings you the must misery." someone said ,and it startled her so that the only evidence of her once happiness ,fell through her hands ,and shattered on the floor.
Looking down at the floor, she realized whose voice it was, it was her own. Standing up, trembling, she realized something that she has denied for years. "This is not a home, it's a prison." She walked toward the closet. "I'm not this wife, I'm his slave." She pulled out a suitcase, and started going around the room, collecting whatever she could into her arms, clothes, money, shoes, anything. She looked down at the suitcase in front of her, and realized if she put these things into their, it was the first step to leaving, and if she started, she couldn't stop. "I will not let him kill me." She dropped the first piece into the suit case, then another, and another until she had to force it shut, and drag it from the room into the kitchen.
She saw freedom, and she was crying, not of sadness, but instead of happiness. With every step, she felt the weight of her
anger, frustration, depression, and regret fall from her. She felt stronger, and more confident that this was what needed to be done, for her to survive. She was only a few steps from the door, she held out her hand to open it, when she was suddenly blinded by a light coming through the window, and it didn’t take her long to realize what it was. Head lights.
"He's home." She whispered as she stopped only a foot from the door. "No, no I can't stop now, I won't stay... I will not stay!' She said to herself, as her heart felt like it was going to burst through her chest. She put down the suit case, slowly, and walked back to the kitchen window to peek out to see if it was really him. He was shutting the car door; his back was turned away from the house so he didn't see her. From his stature, she could tell that he was drunk, and his intoxication always led to a beating, and then suffering. "No, never again." She was about to panic as a thought went through her mind. She bent down, and opened a cabinet, putting her hand inside to pull out a carving knife, walked to the door, and then opened it. "Happy Anniversary," She said with a false smile, and greeted him as he walked through the door. She had the knife behind her back until he was all the way in, and the door was shut.
Adrian walked through the kitchen door into the darkness of the early morning to face the world and new woman, and to leave everything behind her. Every single skeleton was going to stay in that closet, and every sin was going to be forgotten. What caused her pain, and grief was no more.
