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I was wrong
I walked down the street, a glamorous and posh area, I was so scared of being here, but it all had changed since I’ve decided that this is where I belong. A man, tall and skinny, wearing black t-shirt and a pair of jeans, he looked at me with his intimidating stare. I looked down, fear was certainly in my head, I bet anyone who looked at him would feel the same way. He held my chin and forced my head to look at him, I couldn’t, but his force is too strong, I had to.
“where have you been, sweetheart” he said with a soft tone, deceiving voice
“I was in Downtown” I replied, I tried not to be scared
“Downtown, huh? Anything you’d like to tell me” he said
“I was catching up with some friends from uni” I said, truthfully
“I completely forgot on the part where I gave you the permission to go there” he said
“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to bother you” I said, with a vague excuse
“you don’t want to bother me? huh” he said, and slapped my face right after
“I’m sorry, please, I’m sorry” I said, begging him not to hurt me.
He didn’t care what I was feeling, he grabbed my hair and push me against the wall, my ribs felt like it cracked, but my fright made the pain go away. He was twice bigger than me, I couldn’t fight back, it felt like I had no hope, not a chance. He kissed me on the lips, delicately, like he loved me, I fell for it, and I kissed him back. He slapped my face, like he has been holding it for ages, he let me believe that he loved me, and honestly I didn’t know if he ever did. He punched me on my stomach, it felt like my organs were about to be removed, he moved his body closer to me, his feet right in front of mine. He hurt me, over and over again, and I can’t seem to escape this misery.
The following day, I woke up right beside him and I immediately took a shower, before he got mad again. I picked some clothes, I wore a pale blue shirt, a dark blue blazer and a black tight skirt. He suddenly woke up, and he stand behind me, I was scared and I guess I showed it too much. He wrapped his arms around my waist, and whispered on my ear “don’t be scared, I’m sorry I hurt you yesterday, I was upset” and I unequivocally believed him, forgave him. I went to work that day knowing that he regretted doing it to me, I was happy and relieved, because I thought I made the right choice of being married to him. When I went back home, he prepared me a romantic dinner, I was so glad he changed. He cooked me a beef wellington, and chocolate trifle, I was so confused, one day he’d be such a charming prince and the next he’d be a giant beast.
On Friday night, it was almost Christmas, the road was filled with snow an inch deep, I was having an argument with him, of how I need him to stop hurting me. Just when he was taking it a bit further, I heard someone knocked the door, and he opened the door. A 10 year-old girl with a blonde hair and blue eyes, she was so pretty, the perfect girl that anyone could ask for.
“I’m your daughter” she said, with her eyes filled with tears about to flow
“I’m sorry I think you got the wrong person” he said, and he closed the door
I was curious, I asked him what was that about, and he was so mad when I asked him that, he became very abusive towards me, again.
It’s Christmas Eve, I was so excited for this day, the day we got to exchange gifts and meet some relatives. I went to see my relatives and he went to see his, I felt free for the first time and I wish he wouldn’t hurt me. The following day, the girl that came to our apartment, came again and this time she brought us some gifts and she wished us a Merry Christmas. He was agitated by her presence, I assumed he knew who she was, but I couldn’t confirmed it. We then walked to Central Park, and suddenly he fell and I could sense it, he was murdered.
I was in shock, I didn’t how I felt, it’s all blurry and I’m not even sure what had happened. The police were investigating the murder sensitively, they were trying to ensure that no individuals would know until all of his family member heard the news. I went back to my apartment, and out of curiosity I opened the gift that the girl gave to us. It was a box filled with evidence that he was that girl’s father, and a letter from a girl named Teresa. I opened it and read it,
“Dear Mrs. Terene,
I’m Teresa, my 10 year-old sister Payton has been dying to meet his father, and I guess she got her chance. I don’t want her near your husband, but she deserves to know who her father is. I’m sorry to break you the news, but your husband raped my mom and made her pregnant. When Payton was one, Mr. Terene had my mom murdered, I saw it all, yet he didn’t know I existed. I saw how he clench my mom’s jaw until she cried and begged him to let go, I saw when he tied my mom with a dark red rope, pull a knife and stabbed my mom 8 times. I couldn’t help her, I was just 8 year-old, but it is the truth and I’m sorry that my revenge brought a grief to you. I truly am sorry for causing a tragic end to your relationship, I’ve been living in the penthouse just one floor above you, I understand if you have any grudge against me, but your husband deserved it.
What just happened, I thought, I can’t believe how a 17 year-old girl could murder a man, someone that I could barely handle. I figured later that day that he hired a sniper and murdered him, although I should be in grief right now, I couldn’t deny the fact that a ton of weigh has been lifted off of my shoulder. I could have been the one that ended up on a body bag, by him, I was utterly and completely wrong about him, I married the wrong man, why hadn’t I realise this earlier?