Pain.

That was all she and her son felt their entire lives. Verbal, emotional, physical pain―from constantly being put down by cruel words to be senselessly abused by her deadbeat husband. Every day, she and her son felt the unbearable pain of beer bottles being broken over their bodies. Every day, she and her son were being put down for no reason. Every night, she locked herself up in the bathroom and cried from the pain her husband gave her. Pain. It was the only thing she’d ever known.

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“Don’t ever marry that fool; he’ll just pull you into a world full of lies,” her mother always warned her. But she never listened. She always thought that Rodney was the one for her. That charm he enticed her with pulled her in, but she now saw his true colours. But her mother died before she could have told her that she was right. Now, she had no one. She was completely alone.

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Many times she contemplated suicide, but for the sake of her son, she couldn’t do it. Many times she would attempt to run away, but she would always get caught and would pay the price by getting violently beaten by her husband. Her son would helplessly watch his mother get abused by his father, but he knew if he tried to stop his father, he knew that he would get abused also. So he just sat there, forced to watch his mother take the abuse.

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But the abuse would stop today. Walking slowly into the kitchen, the mother picked up a butcher knife and touched the blunt part of the blade. Today, all of this was going to end.

“Mommy, why does daddy hate us so much?” her son asked softly. But she didn’t have the answer. She never had an answer. There were always questions.

The silence is ruined by an abrupt opening and slamming of the front door. Rodney was home.

“Woman, where is my bloody food?!” he yells, his voice long and slurred from the many bottles of alcohol he consumed that day. The place began to get more lit up by the smell of booze. Nervous of the outcome, the mother and son stayed quiet, their hearts sinking to their chests. They already knew what was going to happen next.

The kitchen door flies open, revealing an enraged Rodney. His hair was messy and his clothes were stained with booze; his body also filled with the scent. The son quickly hid behind his mother’s back, fearful of the outcome.

“You stupid, worthless excuse of a woman! Why can’t you be a better wife?” he shouted, raising the beer bottle that was in his hand and lashing her over the face with it. The woman cried out in pain, the hot blood gushing down the side of her face. From behind, the son shrieks in horror as he has to endure his father’s abuse.

Once again defenseless, the woman is continuously beaten in the face by her husband. As the beer bottle finally cracked on the side of her face, an excruciating pain shoots up her head, making her cry out once more. Once Rodney saw that his wife was lying defenselessly on the floor, he looked down on her and spat on her.

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“That should teach you imbecile on how to be a better wife,” he mutters, then leaves the room in a huff.

The woman was hurt. Hot tears streamed down her face as she struggled to grab the knife on the counter, but her little son, who was silently crying also, beat her to it.

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“Don’t worry mommy, today will be the last day he will ever abuse you,” he reassured his wounded mother. His sadness was soon overpowered by anger as he stormed out of the kitchen, ready to give his father―who was now almost passed out on the couch―a piece of his mind.

“You will never put your hands on my mommy ever again!” the little boy exclaimed, stabbing him multiple times in the neck. Rodney cried out from the pain, but he was quickly dying by the second as the blood ran down his neck, staining the dirty, old couch. The little boy ran into the kitchen and helped his mother up, then they ran outside as soon as possible.

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She held her son close by her side as they walked quickly along the narrow road. This was the moment, and there was no turning back.

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Two desperados finally freed from the torture chamber they called home; they were finally free from the pain. The pain that they once used to feel was now just a fading memory.

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