"Are you seriously that much of a controlling bastard? You can't even let me have an opinion that differs from yours?" I stepped towards him, taunting him further. I could see the anger flooding into his brain as his face contorted into an malicious grimace. I stood motionless; waiting. He paused dramatically and rolled up the sleeves of his striped button-down shirt. He always wore dress shirts; he made me press them on Saturday afternoons when I should have been out with my friends.
"You little bitch..." He
hissed at me and I closed my eyes. Waiting.
Then I felt his hand come across the
side of my face, cruel and unyielding. I counted to myself; one, then
two. And then I laughed. He had done exactly as I'd expected.
I had braced myself, so it hadn't
knocked me to the floor like it normally did. I stood firm, staring
at him with unfeeling eyes that for once weren't filling with tears.
I didn't even flinch.
He was caught off guard, and I waited
for yet another moment, then I brought my arm around and leveled the
gun at him. Pointed it right at his head and cocked it. I didn't wait
for him to speak. I'd taken his abuse since my mother had passed
fourteen years ago. And every day since, I'd swore that this day
would come; that one day he'd touch me and it would be the last time.
I squeezed the trigger and he dropped
to the floor. The recoil jammed my wrist. It wasn't the first time
I'd sustained injury because of him, but it was damn sure the last.
©2013
Garden Summerland
Hi, Garden. Very cool piece of flash fiction you've got there... It was fiction, right? I promise to be nothing short of nice to you, just in case... ;)
ReplyDeleteTake care.
-Jimmy
http://jamesgarciajr.blogspot.com/
Thanks James!! Oh yes, it's total fiction! Just tapping into darker emotions on occasion. :P
ReplyDeleteGreat! :-)
ReplyDeleteThank you Caolan! It's always good to get feedback from you. :D
ReplyDeleteVery powerful! Thanks for tapping into your darker side and sharing. :)
ReplyDelete~Jess