Prepared

Prepared

She wanted him dead. A car accident. A suicide. It didn’t matter.
She thought maybe she could will it to happen and one day she’d be liberated.
He had enslaved her, debased and gaslighted her.
He’d owned her body.
Brainwashed her mind.
Stolen her money.
His toxic stench percolated within her marrow.
His phantom handprints still squeezed her face and throat.
They smothered her till the stars exploded behind her eyes.
Her nostrils flared and she gagged on her swollen tongue.
She smelled his burning flesh and hair.
That hair always was an angry, flaming red.
A fitting ending it would have been to watch that auburn crown turn to ash.
Now just ugly scarring remained with a few scattered threads poking through the marbled tissue.
He lived.
Half necrotic and half flourishing within his maniacal existence.
She knew he would savor finishing the task, dousing her this time.
She knew he fantasized about her at night.
She knew he got off to the dream of her screeching as he tossed a match.
She wanted him dead.
He wanted her dead.
So she prepared for battle.

~Lily Bell


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *