Pain, hurt, sadness, depression. She was so tired of. Would it have been better if she finished it all?

Endure the pain one last time before there would be nothingness?

She looked at her husband's retreating figure in dispare. Why was she so worthless to him? Hadn't she done everything that a good wife was supposed to do? Love him, care for him, endure his every jab, his every fit of anger?

"You are worthless! You cannot even have kids!"

It was a month into her marriage that Mason had raged at her. Then the abuse had started when she failed to get pregnant. How could she even get pregnant if he refused to even touch her unless there was torture to be inflicted?

Martha shifted from the small corner that she had at last collapsed, unable to bear it anymore and hissed in pain. A bruised rib. She had come to know how that felt all too well.

Cringing in the shooting agony that shook her with every breath, she hobbled to the bed hugging the pillow to her chest as tightly as possible and grabbed a bag.

Her hands shook as she emptied her closet of all the valuable things that she had. Middle of stiffing her bag, a dark mark caught her attention. Mason had left his fingerprints on her again in deep blue bruises.

Something ugly reared in the back of her mind. The love that she had once for him had turned into hatred. Deep seething hatred.

Quicky she gathered all the valuables that she had found and stuffed the bundle in a hole that she had dug for the past three days. She would run away at midnight. He would eitherway return so very drunk that a stampede wouldn't wake him up.

Done with burying the bundle she ran back home.

Why midnight?

The busy talkers of the town would be deep asleep or drowning in the worldly pleasures the little town could provide.

Time crawled at ant's pace.

No. Worst. A snail's pace. Every tick of the clock had her second guessing herself. She had loved him, hadn't she? Then, when had it become an all consuming desire to escape?

Why? Wasn't she worthy in God's eyes for love? Her own husband's love? A person who she had loved with all her heart?

The sun shed it's last molten light in farewell to the day and heavy clouds rushed in, covering it's once bright presence. Men and women alike were returning home as the streets were filled with greetings and tired laughter. She smiled at it, sorrow evident on her face.

"Maria! Open the door!" A heavy handed banging of the door shook her out of her musings of what could have been.

Maria? What? Now, he had even forgotten her name?

Tittering laughter accompanied Mason's heavy voice as she neared the door.

She had just opened the latch when the door was thrown open, narrowly missing her face.

She winced as the bruised rib moved in response to her being startled.

"You bi*ch! How long do you take to open the door? You should be grateful that I even give you food to eat! Useless hag!"

Mason surprisingly hadn't even slurred a word in his drunken state even though fumes of alcohol wafted from him.

"Martha. My name is Martha." She slowly replied.

"You!..."

Martha looked at him in horror as he whipped out his arm that was around one of the whores and in his utter rage, knocking the head of the poor woman as he slammed Martha to the wall.

"Can't talk now eh? Cat got your tongue?" He looked at her, madness swirling in his eyes as he choked her.

Eyes narrowed in sadistic amusement he lowered his head as he kissed he roughly, biting her lips till they split, drops of blood welling up as he tried to pry her mouth open.

She couldn't breath. His kiss filled her with revulsion and his boorish groping hands had her feeling disgusted. Dirty.

Once upon a time, she would have been happy if he had even showed her an ounce of interest but, now? All she wanted to do was run away.

There wasn't much time left. The edges of her vision were darkening and there was no one to help. If she passed out now, it would be better if she never woke up again. The two ladies that he had brought to play had long since disappeared at the threat of violence.

She struggled against him and in desperation started searching her surroundings. And then, it struck her. Mason always carried a dagger with him. He was a butcherer after all.

She started searching him for the handle; the man's foolish thoughts lead him to think that she was enjoying it.

A smooth surface met her hand and she brought it out and shoved it into the body that was suffocating her and kicked him hard to his balls hoping to distract him.

A wail of agony was heard before she was thrown away her head hitting the corner of the table. Coming to her senses she realised that she had shoved the dagger at his groin.

She shuddered as she sat up looking at him rolling on the floor.

"I'll kill you! I'll KILL YOU!" He shouted as he made a strangled yell of pain as he tried to get up.

That shook her out of her daze. She got up and ran out of house from the back door not once looking back.

What had she done?

A part of her rejoiced in happiness. That part of her fervently hoped that the damage would make him impotent. Then she would see who he would sleep with.

Hurrying to the buried backpack, she quickly dug it out and ran into the forest that surrounded the village.

She ran till she couldn't hear any noise, she ran till she couldn't see the town anymore. She ran till she was sure that he couldn't catch up to her anymore. She ran till she was lost.

And then it all crashed down onto her.

She gasped as the pain of her rib, shoulder, head and lips came back to her as the adrenaline faded. A sticky liquid ran down her neck and she realised that she was bleeding. Her legs shook as they would support her no more and it became too much.

She sank down of the floor of the forest as the first sobs of years of stored pain erupted out of her.

Tears poured down her eyes, soaking her face in the salty wetness as the cold stole away her warmth.

Slowly the shudders seeped in as she got her emotions in control and looked around to get her bearings.

And then, she heard it.

Howling.

♥️