Tales of a year: Elizabeth 1

Elizabeth sat pensively, looking at the clock every half hour. It was eleven thirty already. What kind of husband was this man? Just when she thought things were alright between them, he would revert to his old ways. She had prayed, she was always dropping a prayer point slip at the church, she had fasted endlessly, calling on the host of heaven to curb her husband's excesses and commanding fire from heaven to consume the enemies that were bent on seeing her marriage fail. Two weeks ago, she had been stunned to discover that she had gonorrhea again. Yesterday she discovered that all her money was gone from under her box where she kept the profits from her trading business, he had come home wearing a new shoe and very drunk. Today the landlord had come threatening to throw out their things if they didn’t pay the rent. Her marriage was really becoming unbearable and worse still, they had no child. She had suffered two miscarriages in the two years of their marriage. There was no child to console her, to distract her from the harsh reality of her marriage.

She heard his bike pull to a stop in front of the house and sat up; she was going to give him a piece of her mind today. What nonsense! She was an educated woman who had been working at the local government office and living large as a spinster in her village. She thought of the rich suitors she had turned down for this nonentity who had no clue what it meant to be a man, let alone a husband.

Victor staggered into the house and headed for the bedroom, it had been a long night of eating, drinking and sex. It was always a good day when the local government chairman was around; the merriment was endless.

“Where are you coming from?” Elizabeth asked irritably and held her breath as he turned towards her. His stench was incredibly nauseating.

“Woman… don’t bother me tonight” he said in a growl. “I am not your younger brother, I can go wherever I want.” he said, turning towards the room and wondering why he had bothered to come home.

“Maybe you should stop acting like my younger brother?” she retorted

“What did you say?” He said quietly, his anger rising

“I said stop acting like my younger brother and be a man!” Elizabeth said rising from her seat, blind with fury. “Your mates are working and doing their best to provide for their families, taking care of their wives. But you are busy drinking, messing around with dirty girls and getting into a lot of debt” she said, her voice rising. “Why can’t you be responsible…?”

The first blow smashed her lips against her open teeth and it immediately started to bleed. The subsequent blows rained down on her, shocking her with pain and paralyzing her with fear. Victor beat her passionately, like an energetic child given the gift of a drum and drumsticks. Each blow made him happier, he was making his own unique music and her screams were to him like a beautiful accompaniment. His happiness grew to passion, and his passion grew to desire. He dragged her on to the floor and exerted the rest of his new found energy on her, oblivious of the fact that she wasn't crying or moving anymore.