His heavy snoring prevented me from falling asleep. I slunk out of bed and crept to the seat by the window, staring out into the darkness of the middle of the night. A crescent moon cast its beams onto the house next door in an eerie yet poetic way, but I couldn’t help feeling something completely different than serenity.
I felt vehemence, a familiar emotion surging even though I’d tried so hard to suppress it.
As if subconsciously sensing all was not well, even while he was asleep, he rolled over in bed, readjusting. The snoring started up again, and I bit my lip to hold back the quivering. I glanced at his body, breathing so loudly to announce the fact he was still alive. I thought about how easy it would be to end it all, to put a stop to the snoring, and to be free from the contract I’d signed up for.
What was wrong with me? It had been a question swirling in my psyche for years and years. In the two years since we’d gotten married, I’d thought I could suppress the unsettling thoughts, the fits of anger, the unresolved sense of something being off. When I’d said ‘I do’ to a life with him, I thought I could be different. I thought all those things that had haunted me in my youth could stay in the past.
But more and more, I’d come to realise the person lurking within me was rising up. She wouldn’t be suppressed forever.
I had everything I could’ve hoped for. I had a nice enough house, a man who loved me, and a life many women would kill for.
Yet, for me, it was a life I would kill to escape from. I hated the feeling of being trapped, of being at his mercy. I hated the reliance on him. Most of all, I hated his weakness, his inability to be a man. I hated the fear that if he wanted to, he could ruin me. He could make a choice and destroy what I had. With one decision, he could shatter my reputation, my pride, and my strength. I hated that he had that power.
I had a life so many would want, but it wasn’t the life I wanted, I’d come to realise. Sure, a huge part of it was that we hadn’t been able to conceive, and I knew without a doubt it was his fault. I couldn’t help but blame him for it, no matter how irrational that seemed. It was his fault, plain and simple. He’d taken the one thing I’d thought I could find purpose in away from me. Despite the house and the simple life, I found it was lacking in so many ways. And even if I knew somewhere deep down it wasn’t true, I couldn’t shake the feeling it was his fault.
It was all his fault.
In the past months, I’d found myself growing edgy with a toxic energy I didn’t know what to do with. Everything about him suddenly irked me. And not in the frustrated housewife who giggles about socks strewn about kind of way.
I was irked in a way I’d felt once before in my life, a powerful urge to put a stop to it all ringing in my bones. I was itching to act, to rise above, to show my power. I was dying for a chance to end the endless cycle I’d been trapped in.
I craved a chance to make a statement.
I clutched my head, a splitting pain piercing through me. I needed to stop. I couldn’t do this. Rocking back and forth gently in rhythm with his snores, I told myself it was no good.
She had asked for it in so many ways. The retribution I’d delivered to her wasn’t entirely uncalled for. But this was different. This would be a new level.
He didn’t deserve it. I knew it. I recognised it. He was nothing but good.
Still, that didn’t stop me from wanting to be nothing but evil. I recognised the feelings for what they were, a devilish urge I couldn’t stop. Or perhaps I didn’t want to stop it.
I knew, though, this would be a new line I couldn’t cross.
Still, staring at the moon beaming down, the stars dotting the sky in a magnificent way, I knew without a doubt that I couldn’t just sit by. I couldn’t just be the perfect housewife. Things were headed down a dark path, and I couldn’t stop them.
I didn’t want to stop them.
I wanted him to suffer if for no other reason than for the fact I could make it happen. I liked the feeling of that, my fingers tingling with possibility. There was certainly a line, but I could tiptoe right up to it, make him pay for all of his weaknesses. I could make him understand that it’s a tough world and only the hearty survive.
Feeling a calm sense of resolve, I snuck back into bed, pulling the covers up to my chin. I rolled over, looking at the man beside me, thinking about how the love I’d once thought I felt for him had blazed into another emotion, one with just as much fervour but of a different kind.