Frigid to the touch, sleek, fragile. Why must such beauty be smudged by the foulness of hatred? Why shattered by the fumbling fingers of a drunken man?

Marriage, such a wonderful thing, they say that it lasts forever when you find your soul mate. I do believe that my husband and I are soul mates! Well, I did at one point. He used to be the most tender, gentle lover, a warm aroma of passion and grace. Oh, how he made my heart flutter.

I remember when we used to take strolls along the glittering boulevard at twilight. We would clasp the others hand, swinging our appendages to the eternal beating of our hearts. A click and a clack, thud and a trump, time felt as if it had froze. His soft red hair would brush past his cheek, as my chocolate hair, blew past us in a raging whirlwind. The frigid wind blew harshly; it drew us closer to one another. The dull colors of the world around us were slowly turning vivid shades of red and pink, and the snow twinkled as it melted. His cute little nose would be as red as a cherry, my rounded cheeks slightly pink. We shared a muffler, hand knitted for the first time. It was a gift I gave him a few years back; I hadn’t had enough string to make its twin. The muffler was thick and wooly in texture. At this moment, this one moment, I wished that time would stop. Freeze in its muddy tracks, nothing could make me any happier than this.

Somehow, we stopped taking these strolls. He started acting peculiar, it started when he hadn’t gotten the job he wanted. Jim had gotten somewhat depressed and lazy, didn’t do much. But then…He and some of his fellow workers went to the local tavern that night…Jim had been very late that night! I was very worried about him, and exhilarated to see him again. In fact, I had been so giddy that even a little girl could not hide this joy.

I put on my most favorite dress that night, it was a gift he gave me for Christmas only a year back. It was the most beautiful dress, the snug feel of it could make even the unhappiest filled with glee. It even made the ugliest appear to be the most beautiful! The bodice and the billowing overskirt were a very deep shade of burgundy. The lace that lay gently upon the edges was feathery, light, and a lovely shade of champagne. The underskirts were also the same, wonderful, shade of champagne. The colors and textures of this dress were astounding; the colors seemed to glide together like a swirling couple at a ball. The feel of the velvet against bare skin, oh how it would tingle your senses. The melody amongst the wines made this dress even more special. It was like having my personal vineyard at my fingertips.

I remember twirling around a few times in my dress just to get the feel of it, I was princess Della, the most beautiful lady in all the land! I let my dark, chocolate, hair ripple down my back as if it were a silken dress. The way it moved as I spun made me feel even more glorious. I really was a princess, for a short time. By this time it had been almost twilight, and since our “lovely” abode lacks the proper lighting, I lit a candle with a rich, orange, flame. I shimmied over to the door, or tried to without making the boards scream. I failed at this task.

Our home is very old, a small ten dollar apartment. They raised the price up recently, actually. Jim got his raise, a whopping thirty-five dollars a month. Yup. The boards are rotting, our frosted windows, cracked, not smudged. And oh, the floor, oh, this floor, this floor. Every time you take a step a board will squeal like a cat that just got its tail stomped on! As you can tell, moving in this place, doesn’t go unnoticed. It’s just a gloomy place, the walls are grey, the boards are grey, the windows are grey, even the horrendous floor is grey. The most color this world has is Jim and I.

I had yawned as the tiny orange glow flickered in the dark. I had been leaning against a wall waiting for the arrival of my beloved, Jim. I peered at the door, of course, half-rotted, but there was a feeling in my gut that something was wrong. I hadn’t a clue what it was, or why I even felt this way, what was so wrong about seeing my husband?

Suddenly a lazy, ear-ringing, thud slammed on the rotting door. “Bam, bam!” My heart must have skipped a beat, for it thudded against my very ribcage! Then a jolt of shock was sent through my body. I jumped as if I was surprised my husband’s arrival. “Oh, please, Della.” I had scoffed, mumbling to myself. “Why the shock? It’s…Just Jim.”

I slowly lowered the dim-lighted candle to meet at the brass door knob. Then, with a sluggish approach, I laid my hand upon it, finger by finger, slowly grasping the knob. The little brass knob was a shock at first; it had been so cold that it could freeze your hands even through mittens. Oh! So cold! I had paused for a minute, I felt sick. Had it been the butterflies in my stomach? Surely not. Almost immediately after throwing the thought away, I yanked the molded door open.

A burst of snow and cool air rushed in, but not before long, a heavy, yet somehow familiar object, was throwing me into the wall. It was heated, fiery, and smelled of a burning passion, but poisoned by yeast. I had been dazed for a moment, it had happened so suddenly. One minute I’m standing at the door, the next I’m against the wall in Jim’s arms.

“Well, welcome home darling!” I said cheerfully. He did not reply.
He was frightening, here stood a man that I knew, but had not known. He was the same familiar face but he had been possessed by something foreign. He held me in his arms in a way he had never before, I found this to be quite odd. He had placed his left hand around my waist, where he had tugged me closer to the heat of his body. His right hand was against the wall, and his tender lips were hovering just millimeters above mine. I could feel his breath upon my lips, it was oh so delightful, but the foul smell of beer had ruined whatever passion had existed there. Before I could say a single word to him, just one word, our lips had connected in a violent way.

Instantly, I shoved this stranger from my body, he clanged to me and was strong, this was a very hard task to accomplish.

“J-Jim! Are you drunk!?” I screamed, I was terrified, this was not my Jim. He had looked exactly like him, tall, handsome, green eyes. Thin, he’s a very gentle person, but this is clearly not…

“Drunk?” He said with a deep, scary, chuckle. “I haven’t the slightest clue what you’re talking about, love.” His deep green eyes were staring into mine, staring into my soul. This was not a good kind of stare, it was that of a monsters.

“Jim. No. Stop, please!” Tears flowed and my voice was starting to shake, I started to shake in general. This was not my Jim!
“Oh, love, give it up. I’m in a good mood. Why don’t we go have some fun?” He said with that deep, unfamiliar, chuckle again. He had a dark look in his eyes at this point, the look of a man who wants to hurt a woman.

“No. I’m not in a good mood, leave me alone.” I had said with haste, quickly backing up to the door and placing my hand on the knob.

“Dell.” There was much aggravation in his voice now, anger was quickly spread through his words. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard.” He looked at me with a very serious look in his lifeless eyes, his nose had been wrinkled in disgust.

“Jim, no!” And with that last horrified yelp I opened the door and ran. I ran as far and as fast as my naked feet would take me. I panted, screamed, gasped, I did everything I could to keep breathing and to keep my heart from jumping from my chest.

Nothing mattered now, I had to get away from whoever, or whatever that thing was!

Have you ever felt like you were flying?
Like you were caught in a web?
How about falling backwards?

I felt as if I were caught in mid-air, the world had frozen around me. I could not scream, I could not cry, nor did I feel anything around me. I blinked, and reality hit me upside the head.

A large meaty hand of a man’s grasped my mouth and muffled my terrified cries; I saw that he had risen a glass bottle above my head from the corner of my eyes. I struggled to get away from the man, but he was still too strong for me. Then, I felt a weight on my shoulder, a sly whisper in my ear.

“Why couldn’t you just do this the easy way, love?” The familiar voice had said, then.

It all went black.

This horrendous treatment went on for about another year…Another delicious spring, tantalizing summer, foggy fall. It was winter again, once more. Thanks to his abusive manner, I wasn’t able to enjoy my life; I missed out on every little thing. The blooming blossoms, changing of the leaves. Oh, how I longed for this.

I sat and waited for him to return home, I sat waiting anxiously hoping he would arrive sober, what a lost cause. I was hideous. Puffy white bandages covered my aching body from head to toe, and moving was a struggle in itself. I decided it was time, time to move on.

I waited that day for him to go to work, and then I made my escape.

A sea of rushing people, the chilly winter air that was scented with burning logs, I said nothing, and I walked as far as my battered body would carry me. I was wearing a dark black duster, my knitted muffler, and a ratty old hat. I folded the glorious waves of my shining hair up into the hat, tucked into a very tight bun. I pulled the collar up around my neck so that the scars and wounds could not be seen. I shoved my swollen hands into the little pockets, hiding them from the world as well. My eyes no longer sparkled; they were dead with the shards of heartbreak. It is time to say goodbye.

“Thank you…For the time we’ve had.” I mumbled to myself as I was approaching the loud mechanical engine of the train. “I love you Jim.” I looked down with tears stampeding down my bleeding face, but noticed something residing in the glittering snow. I bent.

Picking up the small item, I held it in front of my nose…It finally occurred to me.

I thought that I would never return to the rotting door of the torture chamber, to the concrete steps of this brutal porch. I never thought I would see this brass knob again.

“Thud, thud,” Was the sound against the soft, molded, wood. “Della…Why harm yourself” That was the ringing of my inner thoughts.
The door squeaked open after a few minutes, and I saw the man. I couldn’t tell if he was going to beat me, but he did not appear drunk. I held a small “package” made of spare newspaper scraps and ash. I lifted it to his hands, setting it gently in his hands.
I said nothing. I stared at him coldly with my rock-like eyes.
Cold, steady, nothing was expressed in them. I stared into his soul, with a darkness of a woman who has been hurt by a man.

He slowly began to tear the papers apart, only to see a small platinum chain that was fit for a watch. A chain that was hidden in the top left corner, of the very top self, of the front door closet. A platinum chain fit for a watch that was eleven years old.

He said nothing, but he expressed something that I had not expected. One minute I’m standing in front of my husband, who I so dearly hated, the next I’m in the strong arms of the man I am so madly in love with. This was my Jim…But then, I heard a warm breath upon my ear, and it startled me for a moment.

“I love you, Della.”