“Accidents Happen”

This was a short story I entered into a writing competition back a while ago.

“Hello” I said behind my painted smile. I wondered if they could see past my whitewash expression. “I don’t believe we have met. You’re friends of the Jones?” I didn’t really care but for the sake of all things proper I continued the charade to appease the hosts and watching eyes. 

“Ah, I see.” 

I have to admit, I wasn’t listening in the least, but I knew the order of how this sort of thing usually went and I had mastered the art of not listening. “I live next door.” I replied right on cue. 

Smile. Nod. 

“Please excuse me, I see someone I know.” and just like that I was out of another droll conversation. I looked up to the porch. I could see his eyes looking at me in disappointment. Cold, heartless, icy-blue eyes, that had just the right amount of charm, that no one knew his true nature. Not like I did. I shrugged my shoulders and tilted my head, while he stood there swirling his ice around and around in his glass, before taking a large swig. I clutched my purse a little tighter in my hands to keep myself from lashing out and doing something one would deem ‘irrational’. 

“Claire?” I heard a familiar voice. “Claire Windham? God! Is that you?” I turned slowly, so as to not look suspicious. My breath caught from within my chest. The first glimmer of hope I had seen in a year. A piece of my former life. “Marcy Plumfield, I declare. It is so good to see you.” 

I continued to play the part, but Marcy gave me this look unlike the others. “Claire… what’s wrong? It’s me Marcy… your best friend.” I quickly flashed a smile, but realized I didn’t know how to genuinely smile anymore. “I haven’t seen you and George since the wedding? How is marital bliss?” My stomach turned in knots, I nervously began playing with the string of pearls around my neck, but stopped once I noticed what I was doing. “George and I are fine. Why the gardener just planted a full row of shrubs just this week, and our apple blossoms are in full bloom.” 

Marcy just looked at me with a blank stare. I don’t think for a moment she was believing my story and got the distinct impression that she could see right through me and was watching my heart race. “How about you Marcy? What brings you here?” Marcy smiled and sighed, “Henry Cunningham has asked me to marry him and I’ve said yes!” Henry Cunningham? Henry. Now he was a gentleman. Kind, faithful, and well tempered. Yes, he was good. “Henry! I declare! You have found yourself quite the catch. Congratulations, Marcy.” 

I looked up to the porch. He was still there watching, swirling his ice around and around in his glass. He seemed disapproving once more, but this time with my choice of a conversational partner. “Well, it was good to see you, Marcy. I believe I see someone I know. Please excuse me.” I turned to leave, but she grabbed my hand. My breath locked in my chest. A wave of fear washed over me and panic set in. I batted my eyes quickly to counteract the tears that were trying to well up in my eyes. I let out a whispered sigh and turned back calmly. “Was there something else, dear?” Marcy’s face was white. I couldn’t tell who looked more uneasy, her or I. I had more practice looking calm, so I asked again, “Was there something you needed?” “What’s happened to you, Claire?” Marcy said ghostly. “I’m sure I don’t know what you are implying.” I replied. I tried my hardest to keep my eyes from frantically darting back and forth and I couldn’t stop playing with the string of pearls around my neck. 

Shoot! I looked right up at George. “Claire… are you ok?” Marcy began to get worried. I wished so much to blurt out everything but could see George slowly coming down the large staircase on the patio and making his way across the lawn to me. “Yes, dear, I’m fine. Everything is fine.” I don’t know who I was trying to convince more, her or I. “Claire, is it George?” Bingo. She was on to my little secret. I could see George getting closer. I couldn’t avoid eye contact with him any longer. 

“Claire” Marcy said, grabbing my hand. “Squeeze my hand back if you are in trouble.” My heart almost cried out right there on the spot. I squeezed her hand like I was saying goodbye, like I’ve never squeezed anyone’s hand before, like my life depended on it, for it very well could. “Ladies!” George interrupted and quickly wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me to his side. “What could you two beauties possibly be saying that could take so much time?” I could feel George’s finger digging into my waist. He was mad. “Marcy here has gone and gotten herself engaged to dear Henry. What do you think of that, George?” “Henry?” George looked shocked and slightly repulsed but the thought. “Why on earth would he go and do something like that?” He flashed his charming smile and laughed heartily. Marcy nervously laughed along with him. “Well, you will excuse us Marcy, but Claire was complaining of a headache earlier and I believe I’ve kept her here too long.” I smiled, but I know Marcy could see the fear in my eyes, for it was also in hers. We both said goodbye without a word and George, with his arm still around my waist, escorted me home. 

Across the front lawn, passed the newly planted shrubs, with every hurried step, the front door got closer and closer. My heart began to race like never before and I could feel my lips quivering as he now dragged me up the driveway to the front door. Bitsy was there at the door waiting, “Mr. Windham, sir, there is a phone call for you in the study.” “I’ll call them back, Bitsy. Right now I have to see to my wife.” 

As soon as Bitsy shut the door and was out of sight, he grabbed my throat and threw me up against the wall. “How dare you make a fool of me!” “I’m sorry, George. I tried my best.” “You’re best? Your best?! I’ll show you ‘your best’.” He grabbed my hair and began dragging me up the stairs. “George! Please…” I cried out, in between sobs. He dragged me into the bedroom, slamming the door behind us. “I’ll try better next time” I tried to say, but he slapped me across the face before the words finished leaving my mouth. 

“Everything you are is because of me! You own me everything! I own you!” He shouted in my face. “These pearls are mine.” he screamed, as he ripped the pearls from my neck. “This dress is mine!” he continued, as he ripped the dress from my body. I tried to claw my way up the bed away from him but he was too strong. “You… you are mine!” he screamed in my face, as he threw me back into the bed. 

He began to unfasten his belt and turned to lock the door. “When you said I do, you became my property, like my car, my house, you belong to me…” His voice trailed off. My eyes darted back and forth around the room. Outside the window was the concrete patio and beyond it the pool but I couldn’t make it if I jumped. George still had his back to me and was undressing. I wasn’t listening anymore to what he was saying. All I knew was I had to get out of there. 

I looked at the night stand and there on his nightstand stood his prestigious Harvard award. I’d never truly looked at it before. I looked heavy. I grabbed it and just as George turned back around, I clocked him up aside the temple and he fell like Goliath on the floor. I stood over him for a moment. There was a lot of blood. I don’t know what I expected would happen but despite the blood all over the new rug, I felt for the first time in a year… relief. So I went to my nightstand, pulled a cigarette out of the top drawer, took a few drags to relax my nerves, and picked up the phone. 

“Operator? Yes, please get me the police. There’s been an accident.”

It started out as a journey…

Welcome to my blog.

This is a new and daunting venture but I’m excited to see where this journey will lead me. The sky is the limit, however, I am counting on you, my readers, to let me know what it is that you would like me to share about. What are you passionate or curious about? What things intrigue or confuse you? Please, pepper me with questions. Fashion, food (I’m gluten and lactose free), fitness, faith, or just plain fun. I would love to share from my heart about any or all these topics.

Wherever this road may lead, let’s take it and grow together along the way. The apostle Paul said it best when he wrote, “And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.” (Colossians 3:17 NIV) Do you believe that everything you do has a purpose? Working, eating, etc. If you do/did, how would it affect your life and how you go about things? Let me know!

 

In Christ alone,

Ilene, Saoirse Amhran

“There is nothing like looking, if you want to find something. You certainly usually find something, if you look, but it is not always quite the something you were after.” JRR Tolkien

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