Hitched

I opened the bathroom door and there he was, sitting on the floor. He always sat and stared through the tears.
“I’m sorry, I’ll never do this again” he pleaded in that voice of his. It was that same voice which I was eager to hear that smoothed my insides; the same made me agree to the first date. If not, we wouldn’t be here and I wouldn’t be sporting this bruise on my face, or this fresh wound on my arm.
“Sorry? You’ll never do what again? Hit me or pull out a gun on me? Every time you hit me, you make that statement a lie Justin, every single time! I’m tired of all these, tired of all of this!  When did you get a gun? Is that what we’ve become? Please let me go at this point all I could do was sob. Lord do I or can I ask why this? Why me? “Just let go of me please, I just want to sleep, please.” I climbed into bed and cried into my pillow till sleep took me away.
“Dera, Dera wake up” he grunted. You know am awake you monster, you know that “We’ll be late for service.” “I’m not going to church today” I croaked. “And why is that? Today is Sunday need I remind you and as my wife we ought to attend service together. What will people say if I turn up without you?” “But you never think about what people will say if they find out you love to use your fists on me ba? I don’t have the strength to apply makeup to hide this bruise you inflicted on my face, neither do I have the strength to banter words with you this morning.”
“Dera, I won’t fight you this morning, I refuse to fight you this morning” he left and jammed the door. Fresh tears betrayed me and rolled down my cheeks, I just fought the urge to scream till my throat becomes raw.
***
I felt his presence even before he put his hands on my waist. When he would that before, it made my insides squirm with delight but now the same action made my skin crawl.
“Hi babe” I hate you “Sweetheart, am sorry about last night” Stop saying sorry, sorry for what!!! “I stepped out of line pulling a gun on you” “You stepped out of line the first day you hit me” “Look I don’t know what I would have done with myself if I really hurt you or worse killed you. I’m really sorry.” I turned and faced him “Justin, you pulled a gun on me, you pulled the trigger, your bullet grazed my arm. Don’t I have the right to be angry with you? If I use this knife to stab you am I not justified? Should I not be hurt, shouldn’t I be more scared of you? You crossed the line last nights, broke all the limits, you did.”  “And for that I truly am sorry, should I grovel before you to show that?” he said as anger brew in his eyes. How about burn in hell? “I’m sorry and I love you” he said as he smothered my face with kisses not even bothered that am being unresponsive, not out of fear or anger, out of something else entirely. I hate you. “I made lunch; I’ll serve it in 5.” “Okay, I’ll go change and come down” he retreated upstairs. I’ll be saying sorry tonight.
***
“Thank you for the meal. Your cooking is as excellent as always. I’ll do the dishes as part of my plea for forgiveness.” “Never mind, I already took care of it.” “That’s a good wife, thank you” I’m sure you’ll change your mind about that. “Justin, I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m sorry it’s about to end this way but I won’t and can’t do this with you anymore. Each time I tell myself you’ll change, you never. I’m afraid this is the only way.” “I don’t understand you. Did you put something in my meal?” he said as he felt the first pang in his stomach. “I’m sorry” I won’t cry, you won’t cry, oh God am crying, I don’t want to cry. “Dera, I’ll kill you, just let me get to you” he said as the clawing in his stomach became insistent. He’s still an ass in the face of death. Lord how did I get here? I sat, rocked myself and cried while my husband of 2 years writhed and convulsed on the floor till he breathed his last.
“I’m sorry Justin, this was the best way” she muttered. With my voice hoarse, throat raw from crying and tears still streaming down my face, I picked the telephone and dialed. “Good evening officer. I just killed my husband.”
***
“Yes, I resigned from work. I’m expecting a baby.” “But you’re not heavy yet at least you don’t look it. So why?” “My husband doesn’t want me stressed out okay. I can work after I have the baby.” I noticed Justin prancing towards me. “JJ, can I ….” “Hello you, yes you. Stop calling my wife, the next time I’ll be telling you this it will be with my fists.” “Justin you…” he slapped me for the second time in a month. “Dera you are my wife, and I will no longer tolerate you cheating on me with your office boys.” “Where is all this rubbish coming from? What boys? If its JJ, JJ is a woman!” at this point I was screaming “What has come over you? You have no right to do that!” “Okay, we’ll see about rights” and that’s when I knew I had married a mad man, he smashed my phone and for emphasis stepped on it. As for my sim card he took it, wiggled it in my face and told me “I hope you understand rights now.” “Justin, Justin you just can’t do this” I yelled running after him on the stairs, and when he turned and looked at me, I knew I was about to get my first beating.
***
The last thing I remember when I come around is stairs, Justin, fists, screaming and sobs that definitely came from me and blackout. I look around and see am at a hospital and I understand I just had my first miscarriage.
“Finally, you’re awake. Are you okay?” “You have to be kidding me! How am I supposed to feel?” Did he just ask that? “I’ll get the doctor to come examine you and you’ll tell him that you’re okay. We don’t need to make a scene, we’ll discuss this when we get home.” Help I was about to yell and as if anticipating what I wanted to do he put his hand around my throat “Dera, if I were you I would obey. I’m going to let go and for your own good I’ll advise you to keep quiet or else what you experienced earlier will be an introduction.” I tried to nod acquiesce. Sweat and fear pooled in my spine and like people would say “I don buy market.”
I was starting to recover quickly enough to start planning how I was going to get away from here and found out it wasn’t going to be child’s play.
“Justin, where are my ATM cards and car keys?” “Meaning?” “I need my ATM card to withdraw and replace the phone you smashed and my car keys because its my car. Why am I even explaining myself? Give me my things.” “First, you accuse me of theft in my house” Ours correction “And secondly you speak to me disrespectfully. Anyway, Dera I’ve thought about it and I’ve decided you don’t need a personal phone. Consider that as my effort to ensure that you don’t resume your relationship with those boyfriends of yours.” Excuse me?” Anger was clouding my vision “Yes, you heard me and heard me well. Also, you won’t need your car keys because you won’t be stepping out that door or going anywhere without me.” “Justin” I launched at me without minding the fact that I knew he was going ram me into the wall. He was choking me and I swear to God that I was already hearing angels sing. Is this how am going to die? He released me and I was coughing violently. “I have put up with your shit for too long. You’re my wife and you’ll follow my rules. The sooner you understand this and listen to everything I tell you; maybe you’ll be allowed to at least walk around the compound without supervision.” I was too weak and tired to even crawl towards him as he walked away and locked the door. All I could I was lie down and cry. He did keep to his words for the past year. I never stepped out the front door without him, we went to church together, yes we did go to church, we went for family gatherings together and if someone managed to pull me away at any time, before they could ask how I was or what happened to my phone he was at my side using a lie or something to pull me away, I was never alone outside for up to two minutes. If he felt I was beginning to talk someone for too long, he would press any part of my body where I was nursing a wound from his beatings to shut me up. After a few months, I was allowed to go buy things and make my hair alone inside that is, he was always parked outside. Throughout the time all these happened I had 2 more miscarriages. I hated him, and even in death I still hate him but I did love him once upon a time.
“So, how did you get the poison you used in his meals?” “I simply told my hairdresser that we had rat problems in the house and how my husband wasn’t listening to me about how much we needed to buy rat poison so I begged her to let her sales girl buy me some. I stuffed it in my bra when she gave it to me.” “Okay, you said you were allowed calls after a while?” “Yes I was” “Why didn’t you call a domestic violence help line?” “Because I don’t know any help lines and secondly my husband was a very smart man Detective, all the calls I made was to my immediate family and the calls were made in his presence. He didn’t do things out of impulse except hitting me.” “Why did you kill him?” “I couldn’t escape the house and I didn’t want a 4th miscarriage, and I also did not want to die. I didn’t kill him because its fun or interesting to kill a man you once loved, it was all in self defense and in protection of the child I carry now.” “Recorder off, Mrs. Dera can I ask you something?” “Okay.” “Why did you cry when we formally announced him dead?” “I cried because I loved him once, I cried for what we were and for who he became.”