Meet me at the well.....

She sat at the kitchen table, the back door slightly ajar to let in the cool summer breeze. She had spent the day cleaning and doing laundry, and she could see the clothes hanging on the line through the window. That was one of her favorite scents: the smell of clothes that have been dried on the line. Detergent and wind and summer mixed together. She stood up to open the refrigerator door with plans to make dinner, when she heard a car door slam so hard that her entire body reverberated. The cool summer air shifted. She looked around her, frightened as to what was going to happen next. Uncertainty made her feel uncomfortable. Yet, here she was, standing in the kitchen unable to move, facing uncertainty. She knew that sound. But, she never knew what would happen next.

She heard the heavy clunk of boots rising up the few stairs to the back door. She peered out the screen and saw his face. She instantly knew what she was in for. She bolted up the stairs, but not quick enough. The door flung open and he grabbed a tight hold of her wrist. He yanked her back to him and threw her on the ground. She covered her face with her hands and began sobbing uncontrollably.

"Please." she begged. "Please. Don't."

Her cries only egged him on farther. He grabbed her by the back of the head and drug her through the kitchen as she howled in pain. He wrapped his hand around her throat and growled, "Bitch, shut your mouth before I shut it for you."

She fought him as his hands fumbled to unclasp the button on her jeans. She scratched at him as he began to slide them off of her body. No matter how loud she yelled, no one would hear her. It was the reason he chose to live out in the middle of nowhere, she knew.

A swift blow to the head left her confused and speechless for a few minutes. When she finally came to, he was inside of her. He was thrusting away into her limp body, unable to fight anymore. She had gotten used to this, after being married to him for 4 years now. Eventually, she let go and just laid there.

He began to boil with rage. "You don't like making love to me anymore?!" She didn't have the strength to answer him. Nor did she have the courage. Everything she said was a potential strike. She lived in constant fear. She just turned her face away from him and stared at a spot of dirt on the kitchen floor.

He wrapped his fingers around her throat once again and leaned in to whisper in her ear, "Don't you dare think about leaving me. Because I will find you. And it ain't gonn' be pretty." He pulled out of her and left her lying there on the kitchen floor. Her hand reached her mouth as a tiny cry escaped her lips, and once again, she was alone...