He hit me. Over and over his hand fell in powerful blows against my face and body. I tried to shield myself. He was stronger and I couldn't stop him. I screamed but no one heard me and he grabbed me arm and twisted it. His warm breath rushed into my ear and his rancid breath filled my nose. I couldn't escape him. I was too terrified to speak. He yanked me by my wrist and dragged me across the floor. I stumbled and fell but that didn't stop him. He dragged me into the bathroom and started to fill the bathtub with water. Tears fell from my eyes and I attempted to leave. He hit me again, his fist crushing the bones in my nose. Blood gushed out. It wouldn't stop, he wouldn't stop. He grabbed by hair and lifted my head up. His dark eyes swept over my face, filled with rage. He pulled me towards the bathtub, as my hair ripped from its roots. Both his hands closed in around my throat. He pushed my head underwater. I couldn't breathe. Water rushed in through my mouth and filled my throat. I clawed at his hands, ripping at his skin. His grip around my throat tighten. I could taste the saltiness of the blood in my mouth. My arms became weak, my sight blackened.

I picked up the phone. I looked down at the numbers. I knew what I had to do but I just couldn't bring myself to dial the number. It was not my problem to solve. I heard the scream pierce the night stillness again. I swayed on the spot and the phone fell from my hand. I rushed to pick it up and dialed three numbers. I told the woman what I knew. I didn't tell her my name or why I had called. I just asked her to send help. And to send help soon. When she questioned me further, I hung up. I had made my case. I sat with my shades drawn and ran my fingers over my crooked nose. I heard the sirens in the distance, turned off the kitchen light, and went off to bed.

It was all her fault. She destroyed it. I had perfection and she was jealous. It was my fault he was mad. He gets that way sometimes. I didn't prepare what he was expecting for dinner. I made a mistake. It was one fight, it would never had happened again. He had a bad day at work, that was all. She couldn't understand that. She doesn't know what it is like to be me. She has no husband to serve, no life to live. She sits by her window day in and day out, not saying a word, never waving. She just stares. Sometimes I believe that she doesn't even know what she is staring at, if at anything at all. She destroyed my marriage. It was one fight and who is she to understand what it is like. These bruises would have faded but he won't ever come back. They took him away.