Chapter 2

WARNING: THIS CHAPTER MAY INCLUDE MATERIAL IN WHICH SOME READERS MAY FIND DISTURBING. READERS BEWARE

Chapter Two

 

            Trisha, on the short drive home, cannot keep the smile from her face. She knew what she was going to do. She had been faced with a dilemma that she had only heard of while she watched the news reports in the morning as she fixed breakfast in her expansive kitchen.

            Her mind drifted to the scene that had played out the night before. Jason had come home late in the evening with a dangerous look in his eyes. After a day full of meetings with the senator he had decided to go out to have a few drinks with Frank, his business partner and close friend.

            She had stayed up after putting Amelia, their three year old daughter to bed. Amelia was a Daddy’s girl and she had the looks to prove it. She had the same dark hair that gently curled around the nape of her neck and expressive blue eyes that could melt a snowman.

            During the day when Trisha was busy with fundraisers and charity events and James was working in the office or playing golf with the city council, Amelia was taken care of by Rosa, their part time Nanny. She had a thick Spanish accent and a stern voice but Emmy loved her to bits.

            After putting James’s dinner in the oven to stay warm she began to straighten up the kitchen. She was up to her elbows in soap suds as she washed the dishes when she heard James enter the foyer. She heard him set down his briefcase and his keys jingle as he placed them on the hook by the door. After a moment she heard a thump and a short curse as he apparently bumped into the solid oak coat tree that was located in the foyer as well.

            As she pulled the drain to the sink and began to quickly dry off her hands with a kitchen towel James stumbled into the kitchen with glazed and watering eyes.

            “Hello, Trisha.” He spoke through a wet burp that had forced its way up his throat. His cheeks were flushed and as he spoke a spray of saliva escaped his usually clean kept mouth. He was a man of appearances but when he drank he became sloppy and careless.

            “What have you been doing today?” He grunted as he attempted to sit down at the kitchen table. His feet gave way and he almost toppled over. He now sat with his head resting in the palm of his hands and looking at Trisha with dark eyes.

            Trisha quickly went to the oven and pulled out his dinner and set it down in front of him where the table was already adorned with silverware and an empty crystal glass. She quickly began to rattle off a list of things she did today.

            “Amelia had a play date with Thomas, the boy across the street, and then I had to run to over to the paper company to pick up the place cards for the-” She stuttered as James stood up quickly and swiped his hand across the table with a raging growl, sending the dishes and his meal across the room.

            For the next few seconds the room was filled with the sound of clanging silverware against the granite tile that covered the entire room and shattering of the porcelain plate shattering as it impacted against the wall.

            “Don’t lie to me!” He yelled at the top of his lungs. His voice cracked as his face turned purple with the effort. She took a few stumbling steps backwards from him before her back hit the island in the middle of the room. She had no idea what had happened to make him so furious.

            “Guess who I ran into today?” He asked through a forced smile that made him look like a feral wolf ready to rush in for the kill.

            “Mrs. Chambers” He answered before Trisha had a chance to come up with a reply.

            “She said she saw you as she was out buying flowers for her sick mother.” His voice rumbled deep inside his throat as he looked down on her with eyes that warned her if she even tried to make up some kind of excuse that she would regret it. Her heart sank. The flower shop was directly across the street from Ms. Marsh’s office.

            “James, I-” She tried to explain before the situation could get any worse. Without any kind of warning she felt heat spread across her face as his palm crashed into her cheek. She felt hot tears spring from her eyes involuntarily and her breath forced its way out of her lungs. This wasn’t the first time she had felt the pain of his hand, or fist or heel of his shoe for that matter, but this time she was caught off guard.

            “She said you were going into the medical building.” He stated flatly as he stood straight. All signs of his drinking had quickly been erased by his rage.

            “You are lucky I made some excuse only a dimwit like her would believe.” He laughed haltingly before he continued to speak.

            “You have been having migraines, Trisha.” He smiled through clenched teeth. She stood silently with her hand on her raw and pink cheek as he spoke.

            “I decided to do a bit of research,” He said as he continued to stand over her.

            “For the last month you have been writing checks to a Dr. Marsh, a psychologist?” He yelled his voice in bewilderment.

            “Did you not think I would find out about this?” He sneered. He always had a way of making her feel lower then dirt.

            “I mean come on,” He laughed. “Are you really that dumb, Trisha?” He asked her as he looked into her eyes.

            “You left a paper trail long enough for any half time reporter to find with one eye closed!” His face was turning a darker shade of purple then even she thought possible. For a split second she almost thought, wished even, that he was going to have a heart attack. She knew his cholesterol wasn’t where it should be, but he had no free time to diet or exercise.

            “Why do you do these things to me?” He asked in a meek voice. His eyebrows cinched together making him look like a pouting young boy.

            “Do you have any idea what would happen to my reputation if the community learned that I couldn’t even keep my own wife happy?” He screamed as he leaned closer to her. Small specks of spit flew from his lips and landed on her face. She didn’t dare brush them away as she stood so close to him. She held her breath as the rancid odor of a gullet full of whisky hit her in the face.

            “It is a month until the election, Trisha. Do you have any idea what this could mean for me?” His left fist clenched into a tight ball at his waist.

            “O’Brian will do anything to ensure his position as selectman.” He growled at the thought. He had been going on for weeks now about how his competitor O’Brian was a filthy snake in the grass who couldn’t carry this town if his life depended on it.

            “All he needs is one small fuckup and this town is out of my hands forever.” James cursed.

            “And I swear woman if you screw this up for me I’ll-” He was cut off as a small presence entered the room.

            “Daddy?” a small, fluttering voice chirped from the entrance to the kitchen. Trisha and James both looked over to see Amelia standing in the doorway looking at them with sleepy eyes. Her hair was a tangle and her silky pink night gown had twisted in her sleep.

            “Not now Emmy.” Trisha whispered to her gently without taking her eyes off of James. She knew that it wouldn’t take much to turn his attention from her to Amelia. He had never hurt the girl, but something in his eyes tonight made her weary.

            “I heard shouting, mommy.” Amelia explained as she rubbed her eyes with a closed fist, the other hand tugged restlessly at her nightgown. This seemed to register some kind of emotion in James because his jaw relaxed and his eyes lost the dangerous glare. He then turned towards Emmy and gently swept her up in his arms.

            “Come pumpkin.” He whispered in her ear as she trustfully wrapped her small arms around his broad neck.

            “I’ll put you back in bed.” He promised cheerily.  “What about a story?” He asked as they went up the stairs towards the room with the pink door.

            “Can it be the one about the mermaid?” Amelia sleepily asked. Trisha heard them conversing as she inhaled deeply to try to calm her nerves. Amelia seemed to have saved her for this time around and for that she was thankful enough.

            For now it seemed that the worst of the storm had passed. After giving herself a moment to ease the shakiness from her legs she quietly turned and began to pick up the food and broken glass from the floor. The last thing she needed was for Rosa to come into the kitchen the next morning and see the mess that her pigheaded husband had made.

            After dumping the last remaining scraps into the trash bin she began her climb up the stairs. Tippy toeing up each stair slowly in order to not disturb the pair in the room to the left. As she passed Amelia’s room she could hear James whispering a bedtime fairy tale and Emmy’s quiet giggles as they drifted under the doorway.

            With a sigh of relief she entered the room she shares with her husband and laid down in her usual spot on the bed. As if by instinct her hand drifted towards the small bottle of sleep aid on her bedside table. She had been taking them for a few years now. They seemed to be the only way she could sleep in the same bed as James. They dulled and muffled the world she lived in enough to be able to escape for a mere eight hours or sometimes less.

            Without any water she swallowed two of the small blue pills. She was prescribed only one nightly but sometimes it would take two to turn off the switch inside of her head.

            As she curled into a ball on the bed she yawned. She figured she would have enough time to fall asleep before James came in the room. He was usually awake and out the door by the time she woke up so if she was lucky she could escape the hard glare of him for the next twelve hours.

            With a small sigh of relief she felt the medication begin to slowly seep into her muscles. She felt the comforting sense of drowsiness and her legs began to relax. Her eyes drifted downwards and her brain became muddled and her thoughts began to slow down. She knew she would be out in a few moments.

            “Maybe this night wasn’t as bad as it could have been.” She thought sleepily as she smiled and inhaled deeply.

            Through her sleep medicated euphoria she only half heard James come into the room and was only barely aware of his weight pressing into his side of the mattress. She let out a small breath as she felt herself being pulled onto her back and into the center of the bed. Her eyes were to weighed down to open but she could smell the mixture of alcohol and cologne and hear James’s ragged breath in her ear.

            “Who said I was done with you b***h?” His voice floated to her as she felt his hand on her body. His hot palms sent bolts of panic streaming across her skin as he traced his way across her collar bone.

            She heard the muffled popping sounds as her shirt was torn open. Her ears felt as though she had cotton balls stuck inside of them. Inside her head she yelled No but her lips seemed as if they were frozen in place.

            She struggled to stay conscious as she felt James hard grasp on her breast.  His stagnant breath grew thicker and more pungent as the smell mixed with the hot scent of his arousal. She felt herself gag involuntarily and James took her open mouth as an invitation.

            She felt her art being cut off as James clamped his mouth on top of hers. His tongue forcing its way into her mouth to leave a bitter foul taste in its wake.

She tried to lift her arms up against him to push him away.

            The medication was her enemy just as much as James was at this point. Her arms felt like lead weights and she couldn’t find the strength to push them off the soft mattress.

            James large hands traveled from her chest to the area between her thighs and Trisha felt her pulse quicken.

            “You owe me.” James muttered as he used his knee to spread her legs apart.

            Her mind banged against the wall the medication had placed around itself. Her screams rang out and reverberated inside her head but not even the softest moan was able to pass her lips.

            She felt the rest of the medication coursing through her blood stream and the rest of her senses began to drift away from her and she was actually relieved that she wouldn’t have to remember this in the morning. Darkness enveloped her and she let her body give into sleep as her husband took advantage of her unconscious body.

 

Reviews

[W.V. Bard]

Watch your switching from present to past tense to imperative.

[Tabitha t]

Thanks for your comments. I have made changes to this since I posted it but I haven't found the time to correct them on here but I agree with your opinion. Thank you for reading and taking the time to review

[W.V. Bard]

Could nooot stop reading this.

[Tabitha t]

Lol that's great! I hope you continue to follow Trisha on her journey to freedom. It's a messed up ride

[.quan.011.]

This was an excellent piece of literature. I didn't find any grammar mistake, but in the first paragraph. You wrote, ' expansive ' I think you mean expensive.

[Tabitha t]

Thank you! I hope you continue to read my work

[Aarontastic]

I read the first two chapters; this is a very difficult story to read, which testifies to your ability to produce a genuinely unsettling domestic scene.

You're very capable when it comes to narrating a story and advancing it forward. I was never bored with this. The pacing was good and generally you don't dwell on the protagonist's reflections for too long - there is a good mix between the action going on and the woman's thoughts.

It might be premature to say this about the characters, but I feel like they could be fleshed out a little more. Obviously, any reader can tell that the main chr. is suffering because of an abusive, ambitious husband. And they have a naive you daughter together. But there is not too much said or described about them at this point to make them seem anything else but basically generic, archetypal characters that can be found in many stories. You've obviously written a lot more chapters since this one, so I hope you didn't neglect to give your characters added depth.

Anyway, like I said, this was a very disturbing chapter to read; it made me cringe. Your sentences and style are simple, but brutally effective when it comes to narrating scenes like the physical and sexual abuse the protagonist had to endure in this chapter. The rape scene was done so that it was realistic, but you didn't get too graphic, which is good for squeamish people XD I probably will not read further in this book simply because I can't stand stories about domestic abuse and families falling apart and all that >_

[Tabitha t]

honestly even thought the first two chapters are in this kind of setting the book is not soley based on domestic issues. It very quicky morphes into a completely diffrent kind of story.

[Amanda]

I feel bad for the daughter. Great job

[gombeggar]

your story is moving forward nicely...you need to keep your dialouge for one character all together in one paragraph more though to not confuse the reader on who's speaking

[Sarah W.]

Great story! This James is, us, something else. Contrary to the other reviewer, I don't think he is a stereotype, but a very real portrayal of some men who assert far too much dominance over a relationship. My allegiance is definitely with your heroine, and if she kills this pile of pus I'm not going to cry, in fact, there might just be a party at my house that night. Keep writing!

[Tabitha t]

Thanks for the review. I enjoy getting diffrent views from diffrent people. so its good to hear thte good and the bad. helps me t o grow as a writer

[KAOlmsted]

"Trisha could not seem to manage to force the smile off of her face."
--seem to whom? I haven't read a lot of this yet, but I wonder what sort of narration you are going for. In my very humble opinion, I believe the story has more punch when the characters tell it, instead of the author. It's Trisha's story. Let her tell it. She doesn't seem to not be able to manage to force the smile from off of her face (oi-vay) Trisha, on the short drive home, cannot keep the smile from her face. Period the end.

Okay...I just read this entire chapter. So let's do this.

The first thing that really struck me about this chapter was the exposition in the beginning four paragraphs. I get some information I don't necessarily need right off the bat-ola while at the same time you completely leave me hanging about what this dilemma is Trisha was faced with...what was in the news reports? And why do you need to tell me she has an expansive kitchen? Her husband is clearly a man who thrives on public appearances and looking good...I know she has an expansive kitchen. (Dude, I am so not picking on you; I just think you have real potential, and I'd love to see you reach it) (and p.s. I just last week rewrote an entire chapter because I described a beautiful kitchen instead of allowing my characters to interact in the beautiful kitchen...so I really do know how hard it is to keep yourself from telling instead of showing) (hey, if it was easy, everyone would write) (write well, I mean *wink*)

Don't tell me what Amelia looks like before you even introduce her. Maybe when she comes downstairs, show me her sweet black curls as she stands there mop headed and show me her sleepy blue eyes while she's rubbing them...like that. And for God's sake, don't bog me down with how much the kid loves her nanny. I don't even know what Trisha looks like yet and you're throwing Rosa into the mix.

The rest. Well. I wonder, since James is so concerned with his reputation, if he would drive home so visibly and clearly intoxicated. And, I wonder, in this day and age (assuming this is a present piece) why seeing a therapist is such a taboo? I'll bet most of those senators James works with not only participate in therapy or pay for their spouse's participation...it just doesn't ring very true to my ear. Seems like a lame thing for him to shove his dinner on the floor over. And if Trisha wanted to keep the therapy a secret, why the effing eff did she not just hit an ATM and pay Ms. Marsh in cash? Why write a check?? And Trisha!!! WHY are you taking a sleeping pill knowing your abusive husband is so pissed off at you, girl? If some schmuck just hit me, I sure as hell wouldn't make myself vulnerable for him.

These are just some things I am thinking while I'm reading. And if I'm thinking them, you sure as s**t know a publisher will be thinking them. I am having a very hard time sympathizing with Trisha. She just seems...(and it pains me to say this)...stupid. *ugh* Sorry.

If she wants to get rid of her husband, all she needs to do is get a web cam going and record her dick head husband beating on her...killing him seems...and again, I'm so sorry...stupid.

My advice? Give James a bigger problem with his wife to deal with other than therapy, but make it something for which I don't side with James about. Make her sympathetic. Make me want to kill James for her. This isn't cutting it for me. And this is the citing incident.

Now come here and let me kiss it and make it all better. You have such raw talent. I can see it in some of the turns of phrase you use. "She held her breath as the rancid odor of a gullet full of whisky hit her in the face." Dude. That's fantastic. It's emotional, and visceral, and you made me live that moment. So I know you can do it.

I'm going to leave it at this for tonight. You either found this helpful and you will ask me to keep reading, or you will tell me to f**k off. Either way. Thanks for sharing your work with us. It is, without question, the best way to learn and to grow as a writer. Trial and error, girl.

much respect,
-kimmer

[Tabitha t]

okay...so....I read your anaylsis three or four times to make sure I did not miss anything. and while your critiscism stings sometimes it is a good thing to hear it early rather then later when it is to late. Also you have not mentioned anything that I wasnt afraid of myself. I know I have a lot of work to do to get this on par and Honestly that is a big If I even can get that far. I really do appreciate the insight and the brutal honesty. Most people just say "ohhh prettttyyyy Kepp going!" You actually make me feel as though I need to work and work hard so thank you for that. I can always use the practice of thickening my hide. So yeah please continue reading and helping out as you wish.

[Aarontastic]

I read this person's review and I'm just *compelled* to say a few things about it XD

Every author strikes a different balance between a character-driven or narrator-driven story. Which way it is going to turn out depends on the narrator's perspective, obviously. Since you're writing from a 3rd person pov, and since Trisha is not going to be talking all the time, it's sort of inevitable that you, the narrator, are going to be telling a lot the story XD Obviously, different peoples' mileage will vary on that type of narration, but that is something I never bother criticizing because I think it's up to the individual and doesn't necessarily detract from a story.

Kimmer does make some good points about controlling your focus though, because all authors want to make sure that they avoid information dumps - those huge, chewy lumps of text where the exposition is just dumped in the lap of the reader. I don't think you're guilty of that, but it is a good habit imo to describe things (like a character's traits) indirectly, through their actions, rather than directly, via narration. That's not always possible though.

But ok the one thing I really have to say is in response to Kimmer's criticism of your characters and their actions: if this world was filled with rational, logical people whose every action was the result of a scientific calculation...it would be different. But there are lots of reasons that real people act "stupidly": because of passion and emotions, because of convictions, because of stupidity, etc. So if Trisha decides she wants to kill her hubby instead of just file for divorce, who are we to judge? And if her husband thinks that his wife seeing a therapist is a career-threatening scandal, then that's his business. I guess what I'm saying is that as an author who tries to portray 'real' people, you shouldn't worry to much about making their actions accountable to others who find them irrational :p

[francineeexx]

I really like it :) Dark, Twisted a bit Scandalous. Keep it up :) I WANT MORE! haha :D

[J. F. Charleston]

Very well description. It kinda bothers that James came home a drunk and do the things he did. All though that's just me. Maybe that event is the one that sets this story up.

[Tabitha t]

This chapter seems to encomass the rest of the book. It is not a pleasent chapter but it is a vital part of the plot line.

[J. F. Charleston]

Yes I thought so.

[Craig2591]

This is very well written. Lots of good description for all of the senses. You really set the scene well. I definitely like this better than your other book (sorry).