marw themed sadness.

‘Thanks for leaving the porch light on, Bri’ Helena mused to herself silently as she opened the gate, walking into the completely blackened driveway. He was a stickler for power saving, she presumed he must be asleep which was perhaps worth the thirty second dash through darkness as she walked down the long flag stoned path; a silent blessing really. She had got her key ready in the taxi, the fatigue of a long day kicking in making her eager for home comforts. Overall tonight had gone far better than expected, none of the speakers had over run, the photographers from The Post had made an appearance afterall - much to Richard’s delight - and the Bob Dylan tracks she had picked created a nice ambience, playing softly in background. She had felt good tonight. Postive press has been such a rarity of late – well done Helena, well done. Pyjamas, a cuppa, and an hour or so of trashy TV to wind down was the plan.

It was certainly not the outstretched arm grabbed her firmly by the collar.

“I’m going to punch you in the head. Hard”
“Oh god, I’m sorry…please…please, I’ve not done anything, I’m ju– “

“And do you know why?” He loosened his grip on her left arm and covered her mouth, interrupting the flow of the trembling and panic stricken words falling from her mouth. “Because I want your brain to bleed. Honey, you’re a stupid little fuck with stupid small brain, so I’m going to have to smack you hard to get at it.” He dragged her towards the house, his slippers dragging on theground as he paced forwards, his ability to pick up his feet as he walked was almost as bad as his posture.

In her head she was running away. She was kicking, shouting and screaming out loud, and it was light and bright and loud and safe. She shut her eyes to take herself away but his chubby warm fingers pressed down hard on her face; an unwanted and sweaty reminder of reality. Regret, fear, and dread swirled awkwardly together around her stomach. Why had she ever thought she could have the best of both worlds; a job, friends, and a marriage? It was such a maxed-out delusion. Why had she ever thought she could have it all?

“Force is the key, babe”, he chuckled to himself, “to get a bit of colour on that pretty, white blouse…a nice fat punch and ‘taa-daa’ some nice red dots straight from your piggy little nostrils. Show you for what you really are, dirty little whore.” She could feel the breezeblocks grazing her skin as her body was held rigid and tight against the garage of their detached home. A quiet, peaceful and private property for the two of you to grow old together - a good selling point at the time, maybe. But that was before. There was no redundancy then, nor boozing, and no iron burns on the thigh, or quick knuckle digs on her spine

The pace of her breathing picked up as he dragged her backwards around the side of the garage, still clutching her firmly. “I know you fucked him, I know it…I’m sick of you. Your head, your body. Your filthy stretched out pussy.” His stale breath lingered in her face as angry, cold whispers were spat put into her face. “Derek this, Derek that…You shit. You’re cheap, vile, digus-“
“Brian, I didn’t, I’ve not…I’d never. Not whilst we are married I prom-!
“You can’t even admit it. Lying bitch. That’s how weak you are, how fucking spineless…”
“I never…I never touched him. Brian please, you don’t want to do this. You love me, and I, I love you…I want this to work, I want us to be together.”

feign devotion and live to see tomorrow through?

“Don’t bullshit me Helena. And even if you did, I don’t. I love sex, yes. And I love the wage you bring home. But I don’t love you.” He bent down to pick something off the ground, easing the pressure on her shoulder for just a second.

mpulse, bravery and stupidity fizzed up in her arms and she swung round to hit him on the arm, but at eight stone and five foot two, she was no match for the 6ft ex-builder.“You stupid woman” he growled under his breath, turning to seize the back of her neck with real strength. “Ha, this is best off all round really” he said lightly, “your life insurance will cover this place. No one will ever know; the cheap little whore ran off – that’s what I’ll say. She never came home, went out partying for 'work', and just never came back. Someone else must have done this when she was walking home from shagging around… And everyone will believe me - because my wife is a mucky little slapper.”
“Brian, no, no…please, listen. I’ve never…”
“Stop lying Helena. Stop lying to me!” Poised with a hammer in his left hand it was now clear what he had leaned down for. There were two different men in front of her; his head and hand did not correspond; tears filled his once kind eyes, but callous, unfeeling words escaped his mouth.

“I just want to see you bleed, I must. I want to feel OK again...I need to see you die.”