| General Flash Fiction posted June 11, 2016 | Chapters: |
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Breaking point
A chapter in the book Their Stories
Raspberry Jelly (831 words)
by jusylee72
6 Word Flash Fiction Contest Winner
"He said that I'm not good enough."
"Go on," the psychologist said.
"Not in bed, not in the kitchen, not with the children. He said I must have been a spoiled child. He called me names like cheap whore."
"And you allowed it?"
"What do you mean allowed?"
"You stayed with him even though he treated you badly."
"Well yes, but it is complicated. There was much to discover."
"How so? He treated you badly. He called you names. Give me an example of the last fight you had? What caused it?"
"Raspberry jelly."
"Explain."
"My husband worked for a large company. I was cooking for a small dinner party for his boss and a few of his co workers. My youngest, Matthew, needed something to hold him over before dinner so I gave him a peanut butter and Jelly sandwich. My sister was coming by shortly to pick up the kids. Jerry doesn't like the kids around while we are entertaining. When the doorbell rang, my son got excited. He loves his Aunt Ruth. So he ran to the door. He dropped his sandwich on the living room carpet. Jerry likes things clean and I barely had time to try to get the stain out of the carpet. I was also trying to cook at the same time. After Ruth left with the kids, I frantically tried to remove the stain. Nothing was working. Jerry walked in twenty minutes later. By then I had burned the appetizers and the stain was not removed."
"How did he react?"
"He was furious. He started yelling. He said his boss would be here in 20 minutes. What kind of a wife was I? He frantically tried to scrub the stain. His anger was explosive."
"Did he hit you?"
"Not that time."
"But he has hit you before?"
"Yes."
"Why is that so hard for you to admit? Are you lying?"
"No."
"You have been with Jerry for 10 years. Have you ever left him?"
"Once, for a week."
"Why did you come back?"
"I wanted things to work out. I wanted the children to live in a family. I wanted to be happy. I thought we could make it happen."
"So you had accepted your life as it was."
"I guess so."
"What happened next?"
"The doorbell rang."
"What did Jerry do?"
"He stood up. Straightened his tie. Ordered me into the kitchen then calmed himself down. He put on a good show. He opened the door to his boss and co workers and started telling jokes. He laughingly made a comment about the stain on the carpet and how children will be children. He lovingly explained that I had accidently overcooked the appetizers but that I was a wonderful cook and would have that fixed in just a few minutes. He even came into the kitchen with them, got them all a drink and gave me a small kiss on the cheek. He called me the "little Mrs.". The rest of the night went very well."
"The rest of the night went well? How can you say that after what happened next?"
"Because he controlled it."
"What is it?"
"He controlled his temper. I always thought it wasn't his fault when he got angry. I thought he just had a fast temper and that if I would do things better than he wouldn't get so upset. All through dinner he was charming. He treated me with respect in front of them. He complimented the dinner. He told funny stories. He had them laughing and it was fun."
"It was fun?"
"Yes, that is when I started getting angry. He could put on this act in front of these strangers but he couldn't respect and love me when we were alone. I had never seen that before. Ten years of forgiving over and over. Ten years of trying to be someone I am not. Ten years of holding back my emotions. Ten years of taking what ever he gave me and being grateful for it."
"What happened next?'
"They left about 10:30. As soon as the door closed he looked at me with hate in his eyes. He said he was going to bed and not to bother joining him. Then he took two more beers with him and went upstairs to our room."
"And?"
"I went and laid down in the children's room. I dozed off for a while. I woke up about 3 in the morning. I don't remember getting the gun Jerry keeps in his desk in the office. I don't remember climbing the stairs. The last thing I remember is standing in the bedroom door when I heard a loud noise. The police say I shot him. I do remember seeing him in bed with red coming out of his head. Listen that rhymes. "In bed with red coming out of his head."
She began to laugh.
"The stain on the bedroom carpet looked just like raspberry jelly."
"He said that I'm not good enough."
"Go on," the psychologist said.
"Not in bed, not in the kitchen, not with the children. He said I must have been a spoiled child. He called me names like cheap whore."
"And you allowed it?"
"What do you mean allowed?"
"You stayed with him even though he treated you badly."
"Well yes, but it is complicated. There was much to discover."
"How so? He treated you badly. He called you names. Give me an example of the last fight you had? What caused it?"
"Raspberry jelly."
"Explain."
"My husband worked for a large company. I was cooking for a small dinner party for his boss and a few of his co workers. My youngest, Matthew, needed something to hold him over before dinner so I gave him a peanut butter and Jelly sandwich. My sister was coming by shortly to pick up the kids. Jerry doesn't like the kids around while we are entertaining. When the doorbell rang, my son got excited. He loves his Aunt Ruth. So he ran to the door. He dropped his sandwich on the living room carpet. Jerry likes things clean and I barely had time to try to get the stain out of the carpet. I was also trying to cook at the same time. After Ruth left with the kids, I frantically tried to remove the stain. Nothing was working. Jerry walked in twenty minutes later. By then I had burned the appetizers and the stain was not removed."
"How did he react?"
"He was furious. He started yelling. He said his boss would be here in 20 minutes. What kind of a wife was I? He frantically tried to scrub the stain. His anger was explosive."
"Did he hit you?"
"Not that time."
"But he has hit you before?"
"Yes."
"Why is that so hard for you to admit? Are you lying?"
"No."
"You have been with Jerry for 10 years. Have you ever left him?"
"Once, for a week."
"Why did you come back?"
"I wanted things to work out. I wanted the children to live in a family. I wanted to be happy. I thought we could make it happen."
"So you had accepted your life as it was."
"I guess so."
"What happened next?"
"The doorbell rang."
"What did Jerry do?"
"He stood up. Straightened his tie. Ordered me into the kitchen then calmed himself down. He put on a good show. He opened the door to his boss and co workers and started telling jokes. He laughingly made a comment about the stain on the carpet and how children will be children. He lovingly explained that I had accidently overcooked the appetizers but that I was a wonderful cook and would have that fixed in just a few minutes. He even came into the kitchen with them, got them all a drink and gave me a small kiss on the cheek. He called me the "little Mrs.". The rest of the night went very well."
"The rest of the night went well? How can you say that after what happened next?"
"Because he controlled it."
"What is it?"
"He controlled his temper. I always thought it wasn't his fault when he got angry. I thought he just had a fast temper and that if I would do things better than he wouldn't get so upset. All through dinner he was charming. He treated me with respect in front of them. He complimented the dinner. He told funny stories. He had them laughing and it was fun."
"It was fun?"
"Yes, that is when I started getting angry. He could put on this act in front of these strangers but he couldn't respect and love me when we were alone. I had never seen that before. Ten years of forgiving over and over. Ten years of trying to be someone I am not. Ten years of holding back my emotions. Ten years of taking what ever he gave me and being grateful for it."
"What happened next?'
"They left about 10:30. As soon as the door closed he looked at me with hate in his eyes. He said he was going to bed and not to bother joining him. Then he took two more beers with him and went upstairs to our room."
"And?"
"I went and laid down in the children's room. I dozed off for a while. I woke up about 3 in the morning. I don't remember getting the gun Jerry keeps in his desk in the office. I don't remember climbing the stairs. The last thing I remember is standing in the bedroom door when I heard a loud noise. The police say I shot him. I do remember seeing him in bed with red coming out of his head. Listen that rhymes. "In bed with red coming out of his head."
She began to laugh.
"The stain on the bedroom carpet looked just like raspberry jelly."
"Go on," the psychologist said.
"Not in bed, not in the kitchen, not with the children. He said I must have been a spoiled child. He called me names like cheap whore."
"And you allowed it?"
"What do you mean allowed?"
"You stayed with him even though he treated you badly."
"Well yes, but it is complicated. There was much to discover."
"How so? He treated you badly. He called you names. Give me an example of the last fight you had? What caused it?"
"Raspberry jelly."
"Explain."
"My husband worked for a large company. I was cooking for a small dinner party for his boss and a few of his co workers. My youngest, Matthew, needed something to hold him over before dinner so I gave him a peanut butter and Jelly sandwich. My sister was coming by shortly to pick up the kids. Jerry doesn't like the kids around while we are entertaining. When the doorbell rang, my son got excited. He loves his Aunt Ruth. So he ran to the door. He dropped his sandwich on the living room carpet. Jerry likes things clean and I barely had time to try to get the stain out of the carpet. I was also trying to cook at the same time. After Ruth left with the kids, I frantically tried to remove the stain. Nothing was working. Jerry walked in twenty minutes later. By then I had burned the appetizers and the stain was not removed."
"How did he react?"
"He was furious. He started yelling. He said his boss would be here in 20 minutes. What kind of a wife was I? He frantically tried to scrub the stain. His anger was explosive."
"Did he hit you?"
"Not that time."
"But he has hit you before?"
"Yes."
"Why is that so hard for you to admit? Are you lying?"
"No."
"You have been with Jerry for 10 years. Have you ever left him?"
"Once, for a week."
"Why did you come back?"
"I wanted things to work out. I wanted the children to live in a family. I wanted to be happy. I thought we could make it happen."
"So you had accepted your life as it was."
"I guess so."
"What happened next?"
"The doorbell rang."
"What did Jerry do?"
"He stood up. Straightened his tie. Ordered me into the kitchen then calmed himself down. He put on a good show. He opened the door to his boss and co workers and started telling jokes. He laughingly made a comment about the stain on the carpet and how children will be children. He lovingly explained that I had accidently overcooked the appetizers but that I was a wonderful cook and would have that fixed in just a few minutes. He even came into the kitchen with them, got them all a drink and gave me a small kiss on the cheek. He called me the "little Mrs.". The rest of the night went very well."
"The rest of the night went well? How can you say that after what happened next?"
"Because he controlled it."
"What is it?"
"He controlled his temper. I always thought it wasn't his fault when he got angry. I thought he just had a fast temper and that if I would do things better than he wouldn't get so upset. All through dinner he was charming. He treated me with respect in front of them. He complimented the dinner. He told funny stories. He had them laughing and it was fun."
"It was fun?"
"Yes, that is when I started getting angry. He could put on this act in front of these strangers but he couldn't respect and love me when we were alone. I had never seen that before. Ten years of forgiving over and over. Ten years of trying to be someone I am not. Ten years of holding back my emotions. Ten years of taking what ever he gave me and being grateful for it."
"What happened next?'
"They left about 10:30. As soon as the door closed he looked at me with hate in his eyes. He said he was going to bed and not to bother joining him. Then he took two more beers with him and went upstairs to our room."
"And?"
"I went and laid down in the children's room. I dozed off for a while. I woke up about 3 in the morning. I don't remember getting the gun Jerry keeps in his desk in the office. I don't remember climbing the stairs. The last thing I remember is standing in the bedroom door when I heard a loud noise. The police say I shot him. I do remember seeing him in bed with red coming out of his head. Listen that rhymes. "In bed with red coming out of his head."
She began to laugh.
"The stain on the bedroom carpet looked just like raspberry jelly."
6 Word Flash Fiction Contest Winner |
 Recognized |
|
Domestic violence is hard to understand. There is a time when desperate solutions seem like the way out. Hopefully, we can stop it before this kind of thing happens.
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