Katie's Goodbye

Katie is trying to free herself, she wants out. Can she make it?

She took a breath in. A failed attempt. Gasping for air, she was struggling. Oxygen was coming in just fine, but it was something worse. Something deeper. It was her heart. She was struggling because the exorbitant amount of pressure she felt on her heart. It wasn’t a heart attack. It was the opposite of the feeling you get when your heart smiles.

Why?, she had to ask herself. She truly believed she was happy, or at least happy enough, but no matter what, it was never good enough.

Katie glanced at the clock. 2:45. She still had time. Not much, but some. She had to go. She couldn’t wait any longer. She rushed into her bedroom. She looked at the bed, set up against the right wall. She was going to miss how the windows on the wall opposite the bed always woke her up with the sun. She used to consider it the perfect time to go for a run. That was before. She snapped back to reality and ran to the closet next to her side of the bed and grabbed the black over-the-shoulder duffel. It wasn’t too big, but it was big enough to fit several outfits yet still carry without being too heavy. Katie threw in, as quickly as she could muster, a pair of shorts, a pair of jeans, one set of comfy shorts, and a couple of tops, plus one sweater. 2:50. Crap, she thought to herself ten minutes.

The top left drawer of her dresser contained her passport, social security card, and birth certificate. She added them to her bag as well. I can’t take my cell phone. This damn technology these days with the stupid smart phones, everything and everyone is trackable. Finally, after grabbing the small amount of cash she had slowly been building and hiding in one of her pant pockets, she was ready to go.

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway made her jump. She quickly glanced out of the window and saw he was home. He was early. Katie could feel her heart racing, beating faster and heavier, like it would pop out of her chest. She began hyperventilating, and then immediately calmed herself down. She had to be strong. She had to speak up and save herself. One last chance to rummage through his nightstand and take what she thought she might need.

“Oh Honey, I’m home!”

Katie could hear Joe and his sickening sarcasm as he walked through the front door. She knew he was heading right into the wine cellar. Originally home for bottles of expensive wine, which naturally makes sense, but now was home to Joe’s three favorites men: Jim, Jack, and Johnny.

She took a deep breath and walked down the stairs, slowly counting them as she went to distract her. 13, 14, 15, 16, 17.

Joe saw she had a bag in her hand and realized what was happening. She was leaving him.

“You f*****g b***h. Where do you think you’re going?” Joe was angry.

“I’m leaving you. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do what? Be the s**t piece of wife that you have been? No one wants you. You’re just a useless little wench.” Joe spit the words at her, trying to break her spirit and strength.

Katie could feel the tears building up. She was literally choking them back, trying hard to not show weakness. Her bottom lip began to quiver as she reminded herself she needed this. Just as she was reassuring herself, Joe walked over and smacked her right across her left cheek with the back of his right hand. It stung. She knew better than to scream. He thrived off her pain and today, no matter what, she would not give him that satisfaction.

Joe walked over to where Katie had fallen and grabbed her right arm, hard, to pick her up. Hard enough that Katie could feel the bruises already forming over yesterday’s, leaving another set of his fingerprints painted on her skin in a purple-blue mixture.

“I’m done with this Joe. I’m not your punching bag.”

That was all it took for him to form a fist and take a swing right into her stomach. He wanted to show her she was wrong, that she was his private punching bag. Immediately after the right fist came the left. The right one swung again, this time higher into her shoulder.

Normally Katie cried. She took hit after hit, thinking it was just his stress. He had a hard day at work and just needed to relieve himself. It would be over soon and then she would make him dinner and then they would go to sleep. Not today though. Today Katie didn’t cry. She took her foot and then kicked him as hard as she could, right into his groin. He stumbled backwards, just enough for her to escape his grasp.

“You stupid b***h, do you honestly think you can get away from me? I will kill you before you think you can leave here.”

The look in his eyes terrified her. Not really because she could sense how serious he was, but because somehow when they first met, she thought that look was of love. She thought he looked at her like she was special, full of light, and enough to make his heart smile. That look now just made her feel angry, like she was worthless, and there simply for his frustrations.

That is when Katie became numb. Her body rid all emotion; sadness, anger, concern, and she literally didn’t care. If she couldn’t get away from him she would die trying. She was done living like this. She ran towards the door, sticking her hand in her duffel without Joe noticing. She grabbed the gun that Joe keeps in the top drawer of his night stand, aiming it right on Joe’s head. She was slowly backing up towards to front door, never taking her eyes, or her aim, off of Joe.

She backed right out of the front door and made a dash for her car. She grabbed her keys from her back pocket and unlocked the door, jumping into the driver’s seat. Right as she got the car in park, Joe walked outside, gun in hand. Katie cursed herself under her breath, not considering the possibility that her gun enthusiast husband would have a gun on him at the moment, but then again, she also didn’t think he would be home until at least 3:00.

As Katie reversed the car out of the driveway, she saw a look in Joe’s eyes that was new. It wasn’t anger. What was it though? She just couldn’t put her finger on it. Defeat, she thought to herself. He was defeated. So defeated in fact, that he didn’t care anymore. Katie pressed on the gas and tried to get away as quickly as she could, trying to ignore that fact that Joe never misses a shot, but she just wasn’t quick enough. Before she was on the street in front of their house, Joe pulled the trigger. The horn honked as her limp body fell forwards, painting the seat red.

Author's Note

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