Franki's blog: "Once upon a time..."

In the corner, past the bed, if the closet door is open I can hide there. Sometimes when she is mad, really mad I can press myself tightly against the wall and she never finds me…too consumed by fury to think small. If she comes close to my hiding spot and it gets like that he usually draws attention to himself to protect me. I am not sure why, but he does.

Oh, she takes what she can get too. She will start with that low nasty tone of voice that sends shivers up my spine and I can see her smile in my head that slow deliberate one. She will insult and intimidate him enjoying watching him squirm. She can see his fear battle his love for her as he bears the full brunt of her attack. Sometimes that is enough for her to fulfill her need for power but there are other times when it only whets her appetite for more. Those are the times that I love him the most. She has no conscience and no remorse pushing him, shoving him, pinching him, grabbing whole handfuls of his hair to whip his head back hitting it on the wall she has bullied him up against. There she continues to hiss at him some malicious lead up to a question that no matter the answer the response is always the same *CRACK* an open hand smack across the face. Another inappropriate answer to another loaded question and its *SMACK* a backhand loosening his jaw. I could feel my heart break for him as I knew that if she went that far and continued to talk it was one of a few things from there.

She could quickly snake her hand around his throat and tighten her grip on it. She enjoyed watching his face turn shades and his eyes water. She could ball up a fist and give him a punch to the jaw as she enjoyed hearing his teeth clack together catching the back of his head on the wall as momentum continued. I have even seen her lean in pressing her weight against him and cover his mouth and nose tightly with her hands not letting air pass between them. His eyes getting big and a panicked look fill them as he pleads silently. Even though she uses him in this way his love and adoration for her is evident in the faithful service he gives her. At any time he could take the upper hand but he doesn’t. He respects her and wants nothing more than to please her, to be used by her as she sees fit.

I cry at the sight of it not being able to indulge in this bond. I understand that on the days that are not spent in hiding they are pleasant and enjoyable often she gives trinkets and treasures. Her eyes full of light and her voice sweetly melodic, filling the air with an audible fragrance. On those days I could better understand that odd glow that I see in his eyes but not on days like this. Yet there it is, unwavering. When it is over and the moment has passed he will lay her down to rest and then come to find me reassuring me that all is okay. I would tend to his wounds but she has already done it before dismissing him.

Since I cannot tend to the outward ones I attempt to tend to the ones not seen and console what should be a broken heart. More often than not he won’t allow me to, instead insisting I run along and find something that will not get me into trouble. He almost always tells me not to worry, its normal and smiles weakly before ushering my concerns aside. I step aside and go about my business at this point not pushing but I want to ask him why can’t you love me the same way you love her? I don’t say it. I just smile back, bowing my head to leave him to her devices. He has no idea how many times I’ve cried for him, tears burning my cheeks as they are tears in vain. It could be so different and yet he chooses this path. I hang my head in quiet reverence as I wish I had taken that same path. Oh, to know such humble abjection and to serve a greater purpose than that of your own. I escape with the thoughts of it to enjoy quiet contemplation of it until she is at it again and then I will have to hide…again.