Libre Magazine

She was in the kitchen when she heard him open the front door. He closed it with a bang that shook her whole being. She moved away from the stove and craned her neck tracing his footsteps with her ears. Her heart sank in her body when his footsteps approached. He stopped for a second; her heart missed a beat and her eyes widened. He moved back and walked up to the bedroom; she gave out a sigh of relief and let her head fall.

She wondered why he hasn’t come up to ask about his dinner..and wondered if he will beat her today too.

Her mind drifted from a thought to another as she moved faster around the kitchen. The first few times he beat her, she cried herself to sleep. His harsh words penetrated her soul and spelled her tears. She woke up everyday with an uneasy feeling and breathed fast that she could hear the loud bangs of her heart beats. Something was broken in there.

But now, she lost her ability to cry. No matter what he said or did, won’t make her tears fall. Her eyes grew dim and her spirit dull. She walked around like a zombie. She lost contact with the outside world. The few times she met an old friend in the street, she would stand there with a faint smile. She would stare at their happy faces with her dim eyes trying to pay more attention. She could see they were talking, but she couldn’t hear what they were saying.

She waited in the kitchen for a long time, but he didn’t show up. She sneaked to the door barefeet with her apron still on. She turned the door knob slowly and opened it smiling hopefully. But as she took the first step out, a firm grip held her wrist and she heard the restless low voice right next to her ear whispering: “Where do you think you’re going, hon?”