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Peter’s Prize #2

Peter’s Prize #2

It hadn’t always been this way for Alma, she came from a decent home as far as homes were to go.  She fell in love. Love of all things should have been her bloom, but instead became her sad journey of doom. Lies come so easy when one’s motives are domination. The man she fell for was not what he seemed at first. So full of hope and admiration! But sometimes the flames of passion come from different desires. One for love and one for hate, so well disguised in a well tied bow.

Alma remembers one of those days when she sat down, feeling woozy and sick. She was two months pregnant and trying not to lose the small cracker she had just eaten in her house of horror not so long ago. She always had one ear cocked waiting for a noise, the door opening, was he in a rage today? She tried to act like she wasn’t there, and part of her wasn’t, for she was far away, deep in her soul, hiding. The door opened and she waited as she heard the footsteps wander through the house. She thought if she just pretended to be reading, on the bed maybe he wouldn’t mind. Her door was closed but he found her anyways and opened it wide. “What have you been doing?” He said, his face once again angry and hateful. His eyes half crazy as they looked for and hoped to find something to catch her in. She remembered trying to lift the mood, hoping to cause it to pass but to know avail. “I have been here. Reading!” she said with a smile that could be seen as a tense grin. “you’re hiding something from me!” he said, the rage starting to escalate as the well-known cycle began. “I’m not hiding anything, I’ve been home all day” she said as bravely as she could but the feeling was coming again. In the pit of her stomach; the inside crying that always told her something very bad was ahead. She tried to remain calm but he started his raging. He began dumping out her drawers, emptying everything on to her cleaned floor, and then the closets as if she had something to hide. All the time calling her names, telling her how wicked and ugly she was. She tried to muster up what strength she had and calm him down. “There’s nothing there! Really! Now can you just go! Go out of this room!” She said pretending to be brave. He swore at her as if she deserved it and pushed the door open further. Her attempts to subdue him only enraged him more. “Get your coat, you’re going for a ride!”

(to be continued)

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