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3WW: abandon; gradual; precise: fiction

May 26, 2010 By pia


I’m not sure about this. I did it quickly and it began going one way and went into an entirely different direction I feel uncomfortable with yet need to explore

The fear that has gripped her tightly refuses to abandon both her body and her mind. She wants to scream. What would that do? Anybody who hears her would just think she’s crazy. Really her scream would be similar to the sound of one hand clapping.

Once she had a good life. A great life really. She remembers the days of champagne and music. Men crowding around her. Wanting to make her laugh. Her low giggle would turn into a contagious roar she was incapable of stopping. Tears would come from her eyes. Somehow that was attractive.

She never really understood that. There was a lot she never really understood, she thinks, as she reaches for a cigarette in the overflowing crystal ashtray on the glass and sterling silver vanity; vestiges of the life she used to have.

He walks into the room. He’s like every damn cliche she can imagine: unshaven dark hair, half bald he makes up for that by dying his hair with shoe polish, she thinks. A wife beater showing his hairy chest and grungy white boxers that don’t quite hide the parts of his body he forced on her last night.

“You’re late for work,” he says in that accent that’s a combination of uneducated and illiterate.

What would you know about work? she thinks but doesn’t say. Instead she smiles. “I changed shifts. Doing the lobster one.”

It was a gamble to tell Mavis she would be happy to change so that Mavis could be home when her husband comes home from his cross country truck run. She didn’t know how Eddie would take it. Didn’t really care at that moment. For once she wanted to do something good for somebody.

Eddie’s cigarette manages to look like a baseball bat:
“I told you, you can’t change shifts without checking with me. I’m having the guys over for poker.”

“I didn’t know you changed nights.” It’s her job to serve the food, clean after the game, go into the bedroom and be available for any friend who might want her. Though really she’s getting so old. Then again so are they. Sometimes there are young ones. They really like her. For an old broad she’s hot.

Every morning Eddie watches her when she goes on the scale. If she gains anything he won’t let her eat all day. During her breaks and lunch at the factory she eats exactly what Eddie tells her to. She thinks figuring out her diet is the high point of his day.

She sits by herself, during breaks, at the factory. Eddie has his spies everywhere. Sometimes she talks to Mavis, who is new, in the ladies. Mavis doesn’t realize she’s persona non gratis. Mavis likes her educated accent and her look that is as defeated as anybody there but still has a hint of her former life.

She tries to remember how this life happened. It was all so gradual. Except for being fired from the publishing company during the dot com bust. She was an editor with nothing to edit. Nothing personal. Yeah right. For some reason she couldn’t work past the firing and would spend hour upon hour at the bar Eddie hung at mooching drinks off her and everybody else.

One day they drove to Point Hell as all the locals called the town that Eddie’s family had lived in forever. She didn’t remember much about that time. Once she had a great memory. “The memory of an elephant,” people would say as she would give a precise recount of some adventure that had happened years before.

Somehow they ended living in an apartment in a 40’s court. Eddie went back to New York and brought back what he liked of her furniture. He threw out everything that was personal and that she truly cared about.

Her parents had died years ago. Her brother lived somewhere in California. He wasn’t really the family sort. Her friends must have wondered but not cared enough. Or maybe they did and just couldn’t find her.

Eddie brought her out of her reverie. “Call your friend now and tell her you can’t do it.” He brought the cell to her. Usually it was locked along with other things he didn’t want her to get. He stood and watched her make the phone call.

She wished she had the nerve to tell Mavis to call the police. She wanted to be saved. Jesus she wanted to be saved but she didn’t have the strength.

Filed Under: 3WW, Fiction Tagged With: 3WW, spousal abuse

« 3WW: dread; grasp; pacify: fiction
Pia finally realizes she no longer lives in NY »

Comments

  1. ThomG says

    May 26, 2010 at 8:30 am

    I think this is marvelous. Gut-wrenching, sad, but what storytelling. You need to explore much more often. Bow to me? I bow to you.

  2. Anthony North says

    May 26, 2010 at 8:31 am

    There’s a continual feeling of being imprisoned in this in so many ways. It works excellently.

  3. Leo says

    May 26, 2010 at 9:19 am

    yes.. an imprisonment of mind in the body, and yes, i bow to u for such marvellous storytelling! my mind flowed with ur words.. a death of sorts for the lady.

  4. stu pidasso says

    May 26, 2010 at 9:39 am

    Riveting, but depressing. The main reason I can’t listen to much country music. I like it, but it makes me cry.

    Cheers!

  5. Thomma Lyn says

    May 26, 2010 at 1:07 pm

    So heart-wrenching — your storytelling is captivating, and your character came to life to such effect that tears are stinging my eyes. Beautifully done.

  6. Gemma@Greyscale says

    May 26, 2010 at 1:20 pm

    A raw scenario where the real enemy of freedom can be the self! A fascinating piece of dramatic tension!

  7. Andy Sewina says

    May 26, 2010 at 3:42 pm

    Great insight of a day in the life of …

    Captivating read!!

  8. tammy says

    May 26, 2010 at 3:43 pm

    Well done Pia! Keep it up. 🙂

  9. b says

    May 26, 2010 at 3:49 pm

    Jeez Pia…I could not help but thing “there but for the grace of God go I”. I have know people that were trapped just like this. Thank heavens for wonderful parents. Great read!

    b

  10. b says

    May 26, 2010 at 3:50 pm

    This address is correct.

    b

  11. Denise says

    May 26, 2010 at 4:33 pm

    What a sad story. There are so many chains that bind. I was finished before I started looking for the prompt words. Great job of weaving them into the story.

  12. Jay Thurston says

    May 26, 2010 at 7:21 pm

    Pia, you cannot tell you were heading in one direction and the story went elsewhere, as you said in your italicized intro. This flowed together seamlessly, did not feel like their was a change in the direction anywhere. I know you also said you weren’t sure about it, but I think this is brilliant writing. You tackled an insecure and emotional character and brought her right to the reader.

  13. Ann (bunnygirl) says

    May 26, 2010 at 8:38 pm

    This is sad and true to life, how little choices one makes can add up to very big mistakes. Go too far and it becomes a trap. We always have the ability to get out of the trap, but it isn’t easy.

  14. San says

    May 27, 2010 at 12:09 am

    the reality here is frightening. very well written.

  15. Tim Remp says

    May 27, 2010 at 7:50 am

    That was a very powerful piece. I felt for her and her plight and just wanted her to get away.

    Well done.

    -Tim

  16. Jane Doe says

    May 27, 2010 at 8:18 am

    A sad, tragic story, but it’s very well written. I’ve been in an abusive relationship before so I can relate to that wanting to leave but not having the strength. A very powerful end to your story.

  17. cooper says

    May 27, 2010 at 2:27 pm

    That felt like a small episode of some thing spectacular.

  18. Matt Merritt says

    May 27, 2010 at 5:06 pm

    Really great. You captured her helplessness perfectly.

  19. pia says

    May 27, 2010 at 6:44 pm

    Thank you all for these wonderful comments. They give me the want to go on with this story or any really

  20. gautami tripathy says

    May 27, 2010 at 6:51 pm

    You got it out very beautifully. Poignant, sad, well done.

    undefined paths

  21. Carlos says

    May 28, 2010 at 2:29 am

    I knew a woman who was involved with a guy like this. Brought back memories.

  22. Bone says

    May 28, 2010 at 2:28 pm

    You really get into the character when you write fiction. I think that you could go on with this story or, to use your words, any really 🙂

    For some reason the paragraph about her having to sit alone at the factory really stood out to me. That was a great descriptive paragraph. It just brought out his abuse and obsessiveness even more.

  23. Susan Helene Gottfried says

    May 29, 2010 at 5:29 am

    I see why this makes you uncomfortable. It’s a hard scene, but you’ve told it beautifully.

  24. sage says

    May 29, 2010 at 11:20 am

    Powerful and sad. Great storytelling but tragic as I’ve known people in relationships like that.

  25. Dee says

    June 1, 2010 at 3:00 pm

    wow this was painful to read Pia, so sad and scary.

  26. Doug says

    June 4, 2010 at 9:25 am

    Phew, that sure did take a turn. I like this a lot. It reminds me of June Tabor’s Barmaid song.

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About Me

I live in the South, not South Florida, a few blocks from the ocean, and two blocks from the main street. It's called Main Street. Amazes me too.

I'm from New York. I mostly lived in the Mid-Upper East Side, and the heart of the Upper West Side. It amazes me when people talk about how scared they were of Times Square in the 1970's and 1980's.

As my mother said: "know the streets, look out and you'll be fine."

What was scary was the invasion of the crack dens into "good buildings in good 'hoods." And the greedy landlords who did everything they could to get good tenants out of buildings.

I'm a Long Island girl, and proud of it now.
Then I hated everything about the suburbs. Yet somehow I lived in a few great Long Island Sound towns after high school.

Go to archives "August 2004" if you want to begin with the first posts.

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