Whispering Delusions
The pain of the migraines forced my eyes shut. That's when it all began...
"He thinks because you do not respond to that stupidity, you are weak."
Because I don't argue with him, even though I'm so pissed, my passive indifference ignores the fact of him being a dog? He doesn't know how much fuel he is adding to the fire. Fanning the flames of his impending demise every time I see his face. Yet, I greet him with a smile every day he comes home, a meal on the table, hot and waiting.
"Baby, how was your day?"
I'd ask. He is telling me. I'm looking at him. He thinks I'm listening.
"You know he is lying."
I may seem peaceful outside, but there is a raging storm within, burning embers that none can put out. He may fall victim tonight if I don't tame this cause.
"If you continue to test me, stick around, and you'll see."
Who am I talking to? Not him. These voices in my head?
Please! Do not take my quiet demeanor for vulnerability. Don't be mistaken. Dear Father, as I close my eyes to you, I pray you truly hear my prayer. Come quick! Rescue me! I know I am strong within and can survive this...
"But you are so angry!"
Help me deal with the tests and the trials of my household, especially my husband.
"You know he is cheating, but he thinks he can hide it; he thinks he has you fooled. Don't forget what you saw them doing; you found the evidence long ago. He just doesn't know it yet."
Piles and piles, it builds up inside me; this volcano is getting hotter and hotter, lava boiling, whistling like a kettle, steaming heartbeat pulsing in my ears. My temperature and blood pressure are rising high... Gasoline on dry paper.
"Strike the match! He believes he is still in the clear."
Fool! I'm looking down at him there, so peaceful, asleep in our sacred bed.
"You could get him right now. Let him wake up dead."
Only if I wasn't eight and a half months pregnant with his child. Lord forgive me for the lies I tell to those who asked me if I needed help or am OK. I know I respond,
"No, I don't need your help; stay out of my business!"
And,
"Yes, I am doing well!"
I say this just to get the busybodies to go away. I do not trust them with these details, with the raw intentions of my twisted imaginations.
"No hellfire is hotter than a woman's scorn. Pour it out on him! Do it now!"
Hidden secrets, Lord. Only you understand the matters of the heart; only you can fix this. Some say we were created in pairs, and we need each other to survive. For in isolation, even though it may seem peaceful at times, we still get lonely; we long for the contact or the presence of another soul.
"Is this why you didn't walk away before? Why you're still here? Stupid! So naïve!"
But I love my husband; we took the vows.
For better or worse...
"This is your worst."
...Until death do us apart.
"Tonight might be your last."
My last, or his? I couldn't tell which one of the whisperers spoke up this time. Was it God giving this warning or the unknown strangers in my head?
"You will soon find out."
Something inside me went quiet. Someone inside me felt disconnected.
"Snap!"
Could it have been my soul? What have I done to this man to make him want to violate me, our bed, our home, my flow? Voices, voices, whispers in my head.
"Do it! He is asleep; he won't feel a thing, not at first."
The voice came back.
"I can't!" I screamed to my occupants. They all went quiet. Then one faint voice spoke up and said,
"My Dear, but you already have."
I opened my eyes and saw it, flashing red and blue lights, blood everywhere, cops kicking in the door. Knife gripped in one hand, the phone I'd apparently dialed 911 on to report a crime, in the other. I closed my eyes again, trying to escape this reality as I lose myself in thoughts of my quiet meditations, as they took my unborn baby and me away.
(Continues in the book, 'Dark Haze, The Island.')
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