Don't make him angry

The woman nervously looked at the clock. It was quarter past 6 p.m. and she knew her husband will be home any time. She went to the living room and picked up the toys her son had left on the floor and carefully put them in the drawer. She looked around and affirmatively nodded as she saw everything was where it should be. Then she went back to her tidy kitchen and looked at her 9 year old son who was sitting at the dinner table, finishing his dinner.

Be quick and then go to your room please she cautiously said to him, knowing that he doesn’t like to be told what to do.

You won’t tell me what to do. I’ll do whatever I want and I don’t want to go to my room. I'm going to watch TV the child answered, hissing, not even turning his face away from the plate.

Your father will be home soon. We don’t want to make him angry, do we? the mother answered quietly knowing that not only her husband will get mad but also her son will be furious because she was trying to command him.

You’re the one who’s making him angry because you’re stupid and you do everything wrong. I’ll tell him to beat you he said with a mean look in his eyes which scared the woman.

The woman asked herself what should she do. She knew her husband will come home drunk and mad at everything and everyone and he will probably beat her as he did every night. She was trying to protect her son even though he was becoming the same as his father. She saw how much rage there was in this little boy and it often frightened her.

She knew why her husband was angry. She knew he was angry and disappointed because he didn’t pass the psychological evaluation for a police officer years ago and he was forced to settle for a dead end job at the gas station. He was unhappy with their marriage although she tried hard to make him happy. She knew he didn’t want to marry her but he did because he wanted to do the right thing when she got pregnant after a couple of months of dating. He blamed her and their son for his misery.

And she knew her son was becoming like him because he loved his dad with all his heart and he was his hero. He was his role model even though he was beating his wife, yelling at her and humiliating her every day.

Suddenly the woman heard a car on their driveway and by the way the he stopped the car and closed the door she knew he wasn't in a good mood. She took dinner from the oven hoping that he would like what she cooked and her son looked at her smiling maliciously and ran to his room. He knew he'd better not be in his father’s way on an evening like this.

Where is my… dinner? The husband impatiently opened the front door and gracelessly took off his shoes. He walked to the kitchen and looked at his wife with disgust in his eyes. He almost fell to the floor because he missed the chair while sitting down which made him even angrier. The wife quickly put his plate on the table hoping that he won’t throw it at her like the day before.

What is this? Your cooking is garbage woman he said and threw a fork in her leg. She flinched grateful that it didn’t stab her and picked it up.

Are you stupid or what? he yelled at her. I’m not an animal, I eat with a fork, why isn’t there a stupid fork on the table? Stupid woman. She carefully gave him the fork afraid that he would stab her with it or a knife like he did a dozen times before. And give me a beer, I’m damn thirsty. She gave him a can of his favourite beer although he didn’t need it; he was already as drunk as he could get. He didn’t eat much; soon he stood up clumsily and went to the living room. He turned on the TV and watched sports while his wife was washing the dishes in the kitchen.

I want another beer he yelled after an hour or so. His wife didn’t bring him what he wanted immediately so he stood up and went searching for her. She wasn’t in the kitchen so he went to their bedroom. She wasn’t there either. Then he opened the door of his sons room. Where is your mother? he asked him.

I don’t know the boy replied quietly. He knew that his father won’t like the answer and he was scared.

Where is that bitch? I know you know where she is! the father yelled and grabbed his son by his hair and pulled him up from the chair. He slapped the boys face when his mother rushed in the room.

I’m here, I was in the bathroom she screamed scared for his son’s life. She grabbed her husbands hand and tried to push him away from the boy.

Don’t touch me bitch! Who do you think you are?! her husband shouted at her and pushed her in the hallway. She tried to run away from him towards the stairs where he caught her and grabbed her.

You won’t touch me ever again he said and pushed her. She fell down the stairs and lay motionless at the bottom, blood slowly spreading on the floor like a halo around her head.

This is a fictional story. If I have offended anyone I'm deeply sorry, it wasn't my intention to hurt anyone's feelings.

As always, constructive criticism is more than welcome.