Flash Frenzy, week 3

Prompt: http://theangryhourglass.wordpress.com/2014/01/18/flash-frenzy-round-3/

I did not look at the pile on the table, not yet. My world was the silver and scarlet circle in front of me. The blood washed off easily, except in a few places where it had dried in the crevices. Those parts took a little scrubbing, and the dish towel I had appropriated for the task was becoming splotchy. That would never come out, and I made a mental note to get rid of the towel somehow.

When I finished the last coin, I placed it neatly on the stack and began counting. It didn’t take long – eight quarters, seven dimes, nine nickels, and 17 pennies. I’d killed my husband for three dollars and thirty two cents. I should have done it for free. He’d been asking for it for a long time. The love taps that were more than taps. The times he took me when I was sick or hurting or just not in the mood. The scars on my wrists that I told everyone were the result of depression when I could still see his hands holding the razor, his voice telling me I was no good, until he realized he wasn’t done with me yet and called 911.

He’d been too smart for me, too smart for too long. I had no money. I had no phone. I didn’t even know how to drive the car – he made sure he only bought manual transmissions, to keep me at home. But today was payday. He’d always shown me how much he brought home – made sure to get his paycheck in cash, just to rub my nose in as he forced me onto the bed. I didn’t know where the rest was. The other seven hundred dollars I was going to use to buy my way to freedom was gone somewhere, and I had three dollars and thirty two cents to my name.

I pocketed my fortune and walked out the front door. They’d know it was me, anyhow, and there was no point in worrying. But I was free, and it was time to see what I could buy with my newfound wealth. And his gun.


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