Sunday, April 01, 2012

That Last Night.

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 26; the 26th Edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The topic for this month is 'That Last Night'.
Saturday – 15th June 2013.
       The last memory she had of him was him chomping her breasts. She flinched. Then turned and looked at the body beside her. His snoring had always turned her stomach upside down, not to mention ruin her sleep. He was drooling in his sleep. Now the damned bed sheets would stink at that particular spot. It brought up a wave of nausea and she almost gagged. She was sick of him to death. 
       The unpleasant part was that it had nothing to do with the drool. She was sick enough to want to smother him with the pillow. But he was strong. It would never have worked. Unless she pretended that they were playing one of his kinky sex games and she would have to tie up his feet and hands to the bedpost. No, no. It would be all too easy for the police. What with the marks on the ankles and wrists, and the forced suffocation, they would unravel her so easily.
'There has to be some way to end this'.
       That night was the last one she wanted to spend together with him. That night was the last one she wanted him to touch her. But she would have more such nights. She knew. She knew that, that last night would be the beginning. She sighed. And tried to go back to sleep. But instead, the tears came. First as sniffles, then sobs. Little racking sobs which she shovelled into her pillow. Shovelled into, burrowed into, along with the snot and the grief. He must not wake up. She did not want to speak to him. Not now. For just some more time she wanted to be alone. She flung aside the sheets and rummaged for her slippers.
***
Saturday – 22nd June 2013.
       Groggily he called for her. His brain had just started to tune in to the sounds and smells of a Saturday morning. The coffee grinder whirring. The toaster tick-tocking. The juicer spitting out the seeds and rind. The weekend was here. A smile played on his lips. Wasn’t she just going to be surprised today! He had planned an impromptu dinner at The Regency tonight. He would tell her to wear the Mauve dress. Maybe with the brooch he had gifted her last week. And he would lead her by the arm and everyone would wonder how he could be so lucky so as to possess such a beautiful woman. His little own trophy wife. His little dirty mistress.
       Stifling a yawn, his eyes wandered to the framed photographs on the side table. And the portraits littering the wall. Regret clouded his mind. And guilt. And shame. He had been too rough with her that night. It was not that he wanted to. But when he saw her naked, the rage claimed him. Gnawed at him until all he wanted to do was to leave his mark on her. Disfigure her. Brand her a whore and parade her around. But he loved her so much. It was all because he loved her so much. He knew it. And she did too. That he would never be able to stop loving her. Her whimpers excited him and her screams filled his mind with fantasies for days together.
       He called for her again. “Darling, I am awake.”
       There, he could hear her faint answer from the kitchen at the back of the house. Not clear enough for his sleep-muddled ears to catch perfectly, but enough for him to know that she was coming to him. A rustle. A movement behind the curtains and she appeared. Freshly scrubbed. Smelling of lavender and soap. The serving tray in her hands. 
“Here is your coffee.” She said through gritted teeth. 
What was it about her that made him look up at her, warily?
“I have something to tell u”.
‘Not a baby. Lord. Not now.’ He prayed inwardly. He detested the little monsters. Whimpering, pesky little maggots. He had no time and no inclination to subject his house to their attacks.,
“What is it?” He flicked his tongue over his lips. And she would remember many a day later that he looked like a lizard eyeing its prey.
“I do not want to stay with you. Now now. Not ever.”
He flung the coffee at her. It soaked her silk robe. Burnt her skin.
“What the fuck did you say?”
“I said I cannot live with you.”
       He punched her in the face. Her nose bled. She clawed him. Across his cheek, she drew her nails.
       He was screaming. Incoherent. Flinging aside the tray and the sandwiches and whatever he could lay his hands on. Stamping on her face and hands. Kicking. Mouthing obscenities.
       She would have to endure this. She had to cry. Now. She had to feed his anger. Make him do the exact things she was scared of. The exact things she wanted him to stop doing to her.
       For some more time. Some more days. Just a matter of some more days.
       Her senses shut down. She swam out into the black salty sea.
***
Saturday – 13th July.
       He flung aside the sheets and looked around bleary-eyed. It was afternoon. Christ, he had slept all through last evening and the night and till noon! He called out her name. She did not answer. He waited and called out her name again. And again. She did not answer. He limped out of bed and made his way to the kitchen. She was not there. then he made his way to the balcony. Neither there. Nor in the living room. Nowhere. She was out. He gnashed his teeth.
       The bitch had not woken him up. Nor told him before leaving. He went back to the kitchen and started to make coffee.
       He had just settled into his armchair when the door bell rang shrilly. He placed the coffee mug on the table. The bell rang again. And again.
“One minute. I’m on my way”. He wanted to punch the idiot in the face. Whoever it was. But of course he could not do that. He was a gentleman. At least everyone knew him as one.
       He blanched when he opened the door. It was a cop. No, cops. Almost a team. And there! There stood his wife. Almost unrecognizable because she was dishevelled and dressed down. The black spot around her left eye, the remainder of last night's coupling,  throbbed with a life of its own. Her split lip gorged red. The purple bruises on her cheeks glared at him. Where was her make-up and what the fuck was wrong with her?
“I assume we can come in, without waiting for you to invite us?” The inspector tapped on his chest with his baton.
Stupefied, he let them in. He let the men walk into the house. His wife started to follow them. “What is the meaning of this?” He whispered, grabbing her arm.
She looked at him. She smiled. It hurt her to smile, but she did.
“Ask the camera fitted on the AC vent.” She spat at him.


He knew. She knew. And now the police knew too.  


That last night had been the beginning. And the end.
                                                                             ***


The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

35 comments:

Enchanta said...

And Shilpa Nair is back at it... AGAIN... with such a big loud erratic BANG! :D
How much I missed you, I cannot explain.
Well anyway... I loved this.. because I love the feminists in us... Haha...and of course the element of suspense that you never forget! :D

Btw, please re-comment on my post. I got an email with your comment but it ain't showing on my blog. Boo-hoo. :(

Chicky a.k.a. Kaddu said...

Good thinking on her part. My kind of end to well narrated story. Like it. :D

Shilpa Nair said...

My lovely enchanting Enchanta! Viva La Feminists-like-us ;p
I left the comment on ur post again. Check and confirm on FB.....Muah!

Shilpa Nair said...

@Chicky a.k.a. Kaddu

Thank u Dear, I hope then in that case u may like some more from the label 'Stories'... ;)

The Fool said...

Nice story told in your usual poignant style. Was fearing a sad end. But turned out a positive end in some sense. I like the way you get into the shoes of not only the victim but also the antagonist in all your stories.

Sunjoo Krishna said...

Very well written. Here's a scary thought... If you and Enchanta co-wrote a story, how would it read? Chills down my spine as I write this. :)

JJ Roa Rodriguez said...

Nice post... Thanks for following my blog..

JJRod'z

Shilpa Nair said...

@TF - Thanks there! I feel something is missing if I do not present both the characters!

Maun Vision said...

very brave, calculated, ingenious plot and done justice to that last night. really gripping tale. Talent of pen is really supe.

Shilpa Nair said...

@SK - It is 10 am here, I am walking down a street and u had me burst out laughing right in the middle of a crowd! God Forbid, that she reads this. She would pester me to no end!

Shilpa Nair said...

@J.J.R - Welcome ! :)

Shilpa Nair said...

@MaunVision - I am so glad u liked it! Thank Q!

Sunjoo Krishna said...

Well, God can't forbid it ... The same suggestion has been made in the comments section of Enchanta's BAT post as well.

Enchanta said...

Let us write a story together. NO KIDDING. It shall rock! :D
Eeeeeee..... *pestering pestering* :D

@Sunjoo Krishna: We might actually do it now that you planted the idea and I have begun to pester her. :D

D2 said...

I'm glad to read something you wrote again. This was marvellous! I love the grit all your protagonists have. Brilliant story, Shilpa. :)

Dreamer said...

Excellent narration - well detailed character sketch of both the characters but the vengeance should have been stronger. Pardon me if I'm too critical.

Shilpa Nair said...

@Sunjoo Krishna - Wherever u are, I will seek u out and thrash you!!! Hahaha!

Shilpa Nair said...

@D2 - As always, u are generous! Gracias!

Shilpa Nair said...

@Dreamer - Puhleeze...I am a born critic and I would only be sad if U did not find anything to criticize!!! If I was in one of my 'normal' moods, I would have made the wife 'Bobbit' the guy, but then I was not, so there, I make up that the wife just wants it to end well! :)

aativas said...

Glad to have happy end for her :-)
Domestic violence is such an evil issue in our society ... Good that you chose to write about it!

lIl hIgH said...

Was a pleasure to read such a well written story.

Dreamer said...

its just that I was expecting the revenge comparable to that of Lisbeth Salander in the Millennium series, if you have read that.

Sankar Shaji said...

wah :D nice story there :D
super cool :D

all d best :D

^_^

aativas said...

(My earlier comment is not visible here. Kindly delete if duplicate.)

I am glad that she could come out of it at least 'that last night'. Domestic violence is such an issue which many women suffer silently. It is nice of you to highlight this social issue.

Shilpa Nair said...

@aativas - Thanks for stopping by. Yes Domestic Violence is a serious issue and I shudder at all the untold stories still going on out there.

Shilpa Nair said...

@Dreamer - I know of the Millenium series, but somehow I have never been excited about reading it. I must have picked up the 3 books atleast a hundred times only to keep them back on the rack again. Just because u mentioned it, I went to Wiki and read the plot and yes, there is a camera! LOL, but somehow even now I'm not 'excited' about reading them. It was the same case with the Bourne books. I haven't read them since my 'reading-material' antennae don't exactly flutter near them :(

Shilpa Nair said...

@Shankar Shaji - Thanks Dear!

Someone is Special said...

Shilpa is back with a bang.. It was scary and in your usual style.. Loved it..

Sunjoo Krishna said...

Just send me a copy of or link to your co-creation. That should get a healthy nose bleed going right after the first page. :)

Kshitij said...

That is a great post!

And thank you for the happy ending.

Shilpa Nair said...

@SIS - Yes the usual - horror, gore and disgust :) Thank U for reading :D

Shilpa Nair said...

@SK - LOL
@Dimdim - Ur punishment follows on FB. Check ur inbox ;p

Shilpa Nair said...

@Kshitij - Gracias for reading :)

Revacious said...

Amazing! I think I waved my fist in the air while reading the ending ;)

RAHUL MIGLANI said...

Amazing , simply superb !