Half Of Rhea

The Excuses

The reality of the situation hit her hard. His anger had finally descended into the physical realm. She tried to lift herself up on her elbows as the pain hit. The door slammed behind her. He had returned. She tried unsuccessfully to quickly wriggle away, but in three strides he had devoured the space between them and grabbed her ankle tightly, making her yelp out in pain. He dragged her backwards, as she squirmed and thrashed, kicking at his arms and legs, wondering what the f**k he was up to. He stopped at the kitchen table and sat down, his hand not relinquishing even the minutest amount of skin in his grasp.

He took a big, black pair of craft scissors from his pocket and panic set in. They were the scissors her and Laken used for their crafts and her heart dropped, knowing whatever was about to transpire, would mean she would never use those scissors again.

“Please… Please no.” Rhea wasn’t even sure what she was pleading for, but from the look in his eyes, she knew whatever was about to happen, it wasn’t going to be good.

“Do you like looking like a slut?”

……. Silence…..

A large hand came down on her face with such force, she felt it resonate through her teeth and eardrum. Stars appeared in her vision, as she refused to look at this monster. Her tears flowing down her face continuously. She decided to concentrate on what she could see, table legs and carpet. She concentrated on the small details as if her life depended on it.

“Answer me!” He hit her again, this time backhanding her on the other side of her face. A whimper escaped from her lips and she lay still on the ground like a dog, unmoving. A metallic taste filled her mouth, as blood came out of her gums. Wooden leg, fluff on the floor, Son’s car under the table, she repeated in her head. All distractions.

He held the scissors in his other hand and she closed her eyes waiting for this to be over. Her mind was ticking, run? Fight? Play dead? She couldn’t run, not with Laken fast asleep in the other room. She couldn’t fight, he was much stronger than her. Play dead was her only option. She felt him set about his work, as he pulled and cut at the material covering her. He cut the bottom so short, it barely hid the front of her underwear. With a hard pull, he jerked the linen swiftly and it whipped the remaining piece from underneath her, causing her legs to flail around. She quickly pulled the leftover material down as much as possible, trying desperately to maintain even the smallest amount of respectability.

He kept pulling and cutting. The straps were gone, he had cut two holes in the top, exposing her n*****s and breasts.

“If you want to dress like a w***e, I’ll make sure you do it properly.”

Tears kept falling from her eyes, as he stripped her of all the respect and dignity you show a woman, a mother and a partner. His stupid questions were only rhetorical, she knew that he just wanted the theatrics of her unable to answer. Cunt. His handy work complete, he set the scissors down on the table satisfied.

A thought flashed through her mind, ‘pick up the scissors and plunge them into his chest.’ She could see it now, him writhing around on the floor, blood gushing out of his wound. Him pleading and sobbing for help. She shook her head, can’t go to jail, Laken. The disjointed, rapid thoughts fired through her mind as her brain tried desperately to grasp at options and ideas, not wanting to concede defeat.

But defeated she was. He had succeeded in making her feel degraded and downtrodden. She curled herself into a ball trying to cover her breasts. He sat there unmoving and unfeeling, looking down at her with gratification.

“You will never dress like that again.”

She nodded without looking at him and he stood up, his necessity for controlling her had been satiated. He turned and walked away, without a second glance backwards. She didn’t look but heard him go outside and get in his car. The sound of the crappy engine fading away, with the crunch of gravel, as it reversed out of her driveway. Rhea felt a small sense of relief come over her, but not much. She had to move but her body wouldn’t cooperate, it didn’t recognise her anymore, she felt less than a human and she sobbed loudly with all the sadness and hurt she had built up inside. With no one to hear her cries or see her destroyed soul, she left every ounce of sorrow behind on that carpet. She crawled to the bathroom and closed the door behind her, locking it.

She couldn’t bare to see her reflection, so she avoided the mirror and went straight to the shower. She stripped off the remnants of what was once a beautiful dress and turned the tap on hot. She stood and let the water wash away some of the physical traces from what had happened. Her mascara that had gone all down her face disappeared, her messy hair that had come out of her ponytail, became a slick tail down her back. Her hands came up to her face and she touched it, swollen and sore. Her lips remained partially open and she tried to close her mouth. Nope too painful. She sighed. After washing what she could away, she hopped out and wrapped a towel around her carefully, trying not to aggravate her injuries.

Just a quick look?... She turned to the mirror and let the towel fall. Her face was swollen, her eye slightly closing on the left side, her lip busted on the right. She had distinct finger marks on her jawline. She rotated and saw the bruises forming on her back. She was in a terrible state. She picked up her towel and stumbled awkwardly to her room. After chucking on loose fitting shorts and a hoodie, she went and checked in on her boy. He was fast asleep, completely unaware. She was so relieved he didn’t hear or see what had happened.

Her mind was foggy and she struggled to string together a comprehensive thought. ‘What do I do now?’

“Ok a plan. I need a plan.” She often spoke out loud to herself. She grabbed pen and paper and wrote down options. Run or fight. A flow chart started developing. She wasn’t strong enough to kick his arse and she didn’t want to put anyone else in potential danger, so run it was. Locations next, she wrote down multiple places they could go and settled on her mum’s side of the family, that lived an 8 hour bus ride away. She started feeling a small glimmer of hope.

She sat for another hour on Lakens bed before he woke up. She tried her best to cover what was already visible but she knew he would still be able to tell and it was only going to get more noticeable after a couple of days.

“Mama, what happened to your face?”

“I slipped over when I was unpacking the groceries baby.” The prepared lie fell out of her mouth.

“Oh no!” he exclaimed. He then jumped out of his covers and half tackled her, as she winced trying to hide the pain she was feeling.

“I’m fine sonson, mama is very strong.”

He nodded sadly, she felt terrible but the less he knew the better. She didn’t need him trying to protect her when he was at kindy. He needed to be a happy, carefree child without the burden of worrying about her. They walked to the kitchen and made toasties. Rhea was unable to eat, as darkness started setting in outside.

“Can you not eat the toasties cos your face is so sore mama?”

“Mmmm… I need to be more careful.”

He finished eating as she sipped on ice cold water. They got snacks and went to her bedroom for movie night, he was so excited to watch any Disney+ movie. He jumped up on the bed and settled down. Rhea followed, arranging the pillows in a way, she thought would be the most comfortable. It didn’t help much and she laid her head down on her pillows, slowly and carefully. Her body was sore and tired. The exhaustion finally catching up with her. She glanced at her phone and picked it up, cycling through her recent contact list. An unknown number showed up and she smiled. Thinking about the handsome man she had met, was the only thing that kept her from breaking down completely. Even though she would never ring or message that number, just having it on her phone, reassured her that it did happen. It was not a dream. She closed her eyes drifting away into a light sleep.

Rhea awoke the next morning in complete and utter pain. She reached for the ibuprofen and paracetamol, popping out 3 of each from their packets, she chucked the 6 pills in her mouth and gulped them in one go with her glass of water. She stood and looked out the window, the driveway remaining empty. Good.

She walked out into the kitchen and made a coffee. Today didn’t feel like a good day, and her optimism for the morning just wasn’t there. It’s to be expected she thought to herself, the resonating pain, a constant reminder of what happened only yesterday.

She looked in the reflection of the window and saw the blackness that surrounded her eyes, the side of her face, her jaw and even her lips. She was taken aback by her own reflection, now she really didn’t recognise the battered woman that stared back at her. She had never hated her reflection more.

Laken walked into the kitchen and looked at his mum. He gasped looking at her injuries which had darkened to various tones of purple and yellow. She rung the Kindergarten saying Laken wouldn’t be in today. The last thing he needed, was her beaten face to show up to kindy. He may have been easy to fool but the teachers and other parents weren’t as easily persuaded.

“Oh mama you really need to be careful,” he looked so sad.

“Yes she does need to be more careful,” a voice came from the back door. Rhea shuddered and started quickly grabbing her coffee and food, to retreat back to her bedroom.

He walked up to her and softly touched her elbow. She gasped and jumped backwards from his touch, swinging her arm around to look at Zane’s face.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get so…….. I didn’t mean to.” He paused not wanting to label what he had done. He shook his head looking down, not wanting to look at her face.

“You shouldn’t have worn that dress.” He said quietly.

“Can we not do this in front of Laken, please.” Her tone was cold and dismissive. Bile rose in her throat as she struggled to stomach his pathetic apology. She hushed him quietly and said “He doesn’t know what happened and I don’t want him to know.”

“Guess he doesn’t need any more reasons to hate me.” He kept his head looking down. She was unsure if he was trying to evoke empathy from her? Surely not?

“Yeah, he doesn’t,” she acknowledged.

It was the first time they had ever put the detachment between father and son, out in the open. But if he was wanting a heart to heart about the state of their family, now certainly wasn’t the time. Rhea could barely stand to look at him.

“I shouldn’t have done what I did yesterday Rhea. I really don’t know what came over me. I’m so sorry.”

“Stay away from me.”

She left her coffee and toast and walked out of the kitchen. No apology was going to take away her pain and sorrow. No apology was going to change her mind. She was leaving and she had to do it as quickly as possible.

Zane followed her out to the lounge. “Rhea, we need to talk, we need to talk about what happened.”

“I know what happened, you hit me.”

“But there was more to it than that. You need to admit that it was your fault for what you were wearing yesterday and your attitude.”

“Are you kidding me?” she whipped around to face him, wishing that she hadn’t, as the pain from yesterday’s whiplash resurfaced.

“Come on Rhea, you know me, you knew I would have gotten angry at you.”

“You’re saying I hit myself then?”

“No don’t be stupid, you pushed me to it! You know you did!” he exasperated.

He actually believed everything he was saying. She stood there in disbelief, one thing she was not going to admit was what he did to her, was her own fault. She shook her head, looking at the man she once loved. He was but a remnant of who he used to be, she took the time to study him properly. There were bags under his eyes and a hollowness to them, that she had never noticed before. His skin had spots and blemishes, his hair was greasy and pressed to his forehead, despite the fact he showered multiple times a day.

She didn’t know when it had happened, but he had also lost a noticeable amount of weight. Was he sick? She thought. No the late nights and crap food he seemed to indulge in, was probably just catching up on him. She sat down tired again, this was so incredibly exhausting.

“Please just leave me alone Zane, I’m sore, I’m tired and the last thing I want to do is defend myself after what you did.”

He looked down and mumbled “fair enough…. I’ll give you some space but we can work on this Rhea, you know I love you ay?”

“If you did, you wouldn’t have done that to me.”

There was an awkward silence and then a knock at the door.