Miranda

There she was, like a corpse, lying on the bathroom floor. Her body was broken, beaten, battered, as her whole world had been shattered. Blood dripped like a running faucet from different parts of her. She was shell shocked, which isn’t surprising, for she was a shell of a woman. Surprisingly, with all the pain she was in, no tears were in her eyes. And that was because this wasn’t the first time she felt this pain.

Slowly and sorely, she picked herself up off the floor where she was left to die. She wanted to wait on the floor for a while to make sure that he would not come back. He had to have been at work right now, so she knew it was safe for her to move. Finally making it to her feet, Miranda limped over to the bathroom mirror and leaned both sides of the sink with the palm of her hands. She clenched it with all the strength she had left. Lifting her chin up, she slowly came in contact with the beast that resided in her mirror every time she looked at it. Bruises. Cuts. Scratches. Bumps. These were all the features that covered her once flawless face. Her eyes went from a beautiful crystal blue to a gruesome black bruise. Her beautiful dark skin had been drenched in her red blood and decorated with purple bruises. Blood poured out of her nose like a waterfall and it dripped all over the sink. Her lips had been busted and a strand of her hair had been yanked out. Eventually, Miranda picked up the towel and started to clean her face up.

A typical morning routine for a typical person involves things like getting ready for work, eating breakfast, or taking a shower. But for Miranda, a typical morning routing involves mentally preparing for an assault, eating a few knuckle sandwiches, and being showered in her own blood. She knew it had to stop. She knew she needed to leave. But how can she? She married her assailant. She loves him. She vowed to do anything for him. Through richer or poorer. Through health and sickness. Through better or worse. But, there’s only one thing that can be worse than her current situation. And deep down, Miranda knew she was close to meeting worse.

As she took the blood drenched towel and placed it in the sink, she tended to her wounds. Her nose finally stopped bleeding as she plugged it up tissues in both nostrils. She then took a wash cloth and wiped off any remaining blood on her face. Tired and exhausted, she let out a deep sigh and she started to tend to the cuts on her arms. It was painful to even look at the damage done to her, and having to physically endure was a hundred times worse for her. Nothing will compare to the mental scars she has, however. Once a happy go lucky woman, Miranda thought she had it all. A loving family, a nice house, great friends, and a loving husband. But over time, that loving husband turned into a bitter monster who isolated Miranda from her loved ones and turned her house into a war zone. Like a princess trapped in a castle guarded by a dragon, Miranda was trying to break free of his grasp and move forward with her life.

Finishing up applying her daily bandages and tending to her wounds, Miranda slowly walked out of the bathroom and limped over to the stairway. With very little energy left in her, she slowly went down the stairs in agonize pain. By the time she made it to the bottom of the stairway, she collapsed to the floor. Her body was exhausted. Finally, it gave out on her and she ended up face first on the floor. The housewife tried her best to get back up on her feet, but she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t make it back on her feet. She was truly defeated. Down for the count.

It was at this point Miranda knew it was over. She couldn’t go on with her life like this. She can’t do this anymore. ‘For better or worse’ has now turned into a two options for her; either leave and continue to live or stay in this hellish home and die. The choice was obvious for her, but it’s easier said than done. She can’t just get up and leave this man like it’s nothing. Sure, they don’t have kids together. And sure, she could easily see if she could live with one of her loved ones for a while. But, she depends on this man. Whatever is his is what’s hers. And if she leaves him, she loses everything. There’s only one person she could talk to about this.

Slowly rolling on her back with tears flooding her eyes, Miranda looked up at the ceiling and exhaled deeply. Shutting her eyes, she folded her hands and began to pray.

“Dear Lord,

Is this what it’s like? To be at the bottom of an abyss? Sure feels like it. I… I come to you now with a huge problem. Lord, I know you and I haven’t talked very much in a long time, but there’s something we need to discuss. God, long ago I prayed to you to and asked you to send me the perfect man. And you did just that. You gave me the perfect man and he treated me like a queen. Over time, I married that perfect man. Shortly after, that… that perfect man became my greatest nightmare. I can’t do this anymore, Lord. I have been beaten, pushed down these stairs, spit on, slapped, cut, bruised, and… he… even had his way with me one time without my consent. This isn’t right. This isn’t a marriage. This is a punishment. A punishment for something I have done. God, what have I done? What have I done to deserve these daily assaults? What did I do to upset you? Whatever it is, I’ll fix it. Just PLEASE help me. Please Lord, give me the strength to get through this. I can’t do this without You. I have no one else to turn to. He’s bigger, stronger, and wiser than I am. I need you now more than EVER! I can’t go on like this. This isn’t life. This isn’t the happiness I thought I wanted. I can’t find peace in my OWN household. He’s taken me from my family, my friends, and cheats on me every chance he gets. Please send me a sign or I have to give up. I can’t take it anymore. I’m at a point of no return where I just wanna die. Please just let me die. Living like this hurts to much. Whatever it takes, just end this please… In your Son’s name, Jesus Christ, amen…”

As Miranda’s prayer concluded, she opened her eyes with tear resting in them. As they poured out of the side of her eyes, her vision started to clear up. She noticed the inside of her house was becoming lighter and lighter. The sun was coming out from the clouds and its light was shining into her home. As the light came in shining on her battered body, she felt her skin getting warmer and warmer.

Suddenly, something came over her. Something gave her the will she needed to move her body. Finally being able to sit up straight, she looked around and found her house was mess. Broken glass covered the floor like carpet, plants were knocked over, the couch was flipped over, and tiny stains of her blood could be found around the living room.

She thought to herself ‘I should clean this up,’ as got up to her feet. But then, another thought crept inside her head and struck her like lightning.

‘Why should I? I didn’t make it.’

She looked around at the chaos that her so-called ‘husband’ made of their home at her expense. She didn’t flip the couch. He did when he threw her over it. She didn’t break the glass on the floor. He did when he threw it at her. She didn’t cut herself open and pour her blood everywhere. He did that! So, why should she have to clean up the mess Hurricane Mark made? Why should she have to serve him after he did a disservice to her? Why should she have to put with this?

Miranda shook her head as the rage within her began to possess her. She decided to leave everything as it was. Instead, she decided to do the exact thing Mark does every time he wants to take a load off; have a drink!

With no hesitation, Miranda marched to the refrigerator and grabbed one of Mark’s beers that she was forbidden to touch. Cracking the lid on the side counter and opening the bottle, she instantly took a sip of the drink. As the alcohol filled her system, she slowly started to feel at ease.

Miranda looked around her home in disgust. Everything was a mess all because one man she thought loved her thinks he can use her as some type of relief for his rage. She kept the beer in her clutch as she looked around some more. She looked at the pictures on the wall of them together.

The very first one she saw was one of them at a family reunion. She remembered being so upset that day because Mark decided to take it upon himself to inform her that she was “too fat to be wearing that dress.” Right next to that one was a picture of them at a ski resort. The photo of them on their first vacation was so deceiving. In the picture, they’re smiling at each other and having a good time. But, the most memorable part of that vacation was the day after that picture was taken. It was the first time he ever hit her. It was a straight back hand right to her face, all because she slightly overcooked the grilled cheese she made for him. Next to that one was a photo that contained one of their happier memories. It was a picture of her in a blue sundress wearing a long leather glove on her arm with a beautiful white and brown barn owl sitting on top of her wrist. It was from a trip to her aunt’s barnyard last year. She actually had the time of her life that day. As a matter of fact, it’s most likely the fondest memory she shares with her husband. He was loving, attentive, and human this day. That memory still haunts her, however, because she saw for once what their marriage could have been like, opposed to the nightmare it has become. But, that wasn’t the most haunting thing she was on that wall.

At the very end of the wall, she saw something truly frightening and terrifying. It was their wedding photo. The day where it all went wrong. The day where she made the biggest mistake of her life. The day she sold her soul and her freedom away to the devil himself. She could hear the chilling words from the Pastor ringing in her ears. ‘Do you, Miranda Blake, take Mark to be your lawfully wedded husband?’

Miranda felt tears going to her face and her chest bumping. The room was spinning. Her anxiety was spiking. Her head was pounding, and she finally had enough.

In that moment, the fire in her exploded and she was ready to unleash it. ‘Do you, Miranda Blake, take Mark to be your lawfully wedded husband?’ she heard once more. And just like that, she snapped.

“NOOOOOOOOO!” she shrieked, flinging the beer at the wall and smashing the glass on the frame. She marched up to the picture and snatched it off of the wall. She spun around and slammed the picture frame on the counter until it was completely destroyed. She then launched it down the hall way. The tears are burning in her eyes, but she didn’t care.

She marched back upstairs and went to their bedroom. Kicking the door open, she sprinted to his closet and ripped his clothes off of their hangers. Piling them in her arms, she grabbed as many belongings of his that she could and went over to the window. Lifting it open, she flung his stuff out to the front lawn. “TEN YEARS!” she screamed. ‘TEN YEARS TO THIS EXACT DAY!”

She wasn’t a woman on the edge anymore. She was a woman who was sent plummeting off the edge because the same person spent a decade pushing her closer and closer to it. She was heated and full of resentment. She tossed more and more of his stuff outside and watched it all rain to the outside. Shirts, watches, chains, shoes, and much more were covering their lawn. “OUR TEN YEAR ANNIVERSARY AND YOU DECIDE TO TREAT ME LIKE THIS? NO!”

Across the street, her nosey neighbor, Yolanda, was watching the entire thing while watering her plants. She couldn’t help but look at Miranda on the second floor as she dumped a box of his shoes outside. “Miranda! What’s going on?” she said as she walked across the street.

Miranda was not in the mood for her neighbor today, so Yolanda was met with some very harsh words. “Mind your damn business!” she barked at her with the fury of a three headed dog. Yolanda’s jaw dropped to the ground as she turned right back around and headed towards her house. She looked to her left as she saw Mark’s car pulling up to the driveway. Yolanda went from walking to speed walking at the sight of Mark. She wanted nothing to do with this situation.

Miranda saw Mark coming up the street as well and immediately shut the window. She checked the time on her watch. It was already 1 P.M., which meant Mark was coming back home on his lunch break. She wasn’t expecting him, but now she’s expecting a war as soon as he comes through that door. In the corner of her eye, she noticed his bag of golf clubs by the closet.

Outside, Mark parked his car in the driveway and saw his clothing on the front lawn. He placed the gear in park and got out of the car. He saw what Miranda had done and saw his stuff all across the bushes and grass they planted. “What the…”

Mark couldn’t even finish his sentence, as his bag of golf club came flying out of the window. Miranda had tossed it out the window and made sure it landed through Mark’s windshield! “OH! Are you CRAZY!?” he screamed at her as she shut the window one more time.

Mark was enraged looking at his golf clubs sticking out through the windshield. He quickly grabbed his keys and ran over to the front door. “She’s in for it now,” he mumbled to himself. Finally unlocking the door, he quickly went inside. “Miranda! Where are you?!” he shouted. “You think this is funny? Where ARE YOU?!” he yelled once more.

“Right here, honey!” he heard her say behind him. Somehow, she was able to hide behind the door before he opened. But she wasn’t alone. She had one of his golf clubs in her hands! As Mark turned around, Miranda swung the golf club across his face with all her fury! She watched as her abuser collapsed to the ground. His mouth was bleeding and he was moaning in pain.

And here it was, the moment of truth for her. She struck him down on his back with the club and wouldn’t let up. Each shot hurt more and more than the previous one, and she started to beat him with the club over top his head. She kicked him in his rib for good measure and stomped on him as well. Eventually, she stopped herself and regained her composure. She was drenched in sweat and panting heavily. Mark was in severe pain and agony. Now, he was the one who couldn’t move and was left there lying in that same spot she was in. Miranda dropped the golf club out of her hands and stared at this pathetic creature at her feet. “Miranda……. Why………” he moaned out to her.

Miranda shook her head and she pulled her wedding ring off her finger. She tossed it at the back of his head and backed away from him, slowly. She was about to go out of the front door, but she turned around before leaving and looked at him one last time.

“I spent the past decade dealing with your abuse. I spent many mornings putting up with your physical harm and many nights wondering if the person I lay in bed with truly loves me. But that stops today. You made your bed. Now lay in it you soon of a bitch!”

With that said, Miranda marched out of the house with her head held high. She started to walk down the street and didn’t once look back at the house she used to live in. Now, she’s finally free. Free at last.

No longer does she have to put up with abuse in a house. Now, she can explore the world, and find herself a home that shall match her freedom.