1920-Imaginary

Swallowed up in the sound of my screaming
Cannot cease for the fear of silent nights
Oh, how I long for the deep sleep dreaming
The goddess of imaginary light

-Evanescence

April

The force of the slap sent me sprawling on the ground. A sob wracked my body as I pulled my knees to my chest and shut my eyes as tight as possible.

“Get up, bitch!” he growled, kicking me sharply in the ribs.

I tried to hold back the cry of pain, but a whimper escaped.

“I said get up! Be a wife to me.”

I raised my head to look at him, struggling up on my hands and knees. I felt like a dog. A whipped dog.

“No,” I whispered. “Never again.”

He growled and reached down, grabbing my hair and jerking me up. His hand made contact with my jaw again and this time I screamed.

“What did you say?”

I tried to shake my head, but it only served by pulling out more hair. Another slap. I tasted blood on my mouth. Charles shook me roughly, still keeping a fist full of my hair.

“You’re my wife,” he whispered, a menace in his voice. “You should act like one.”

“NO!” I screamed, but he didn’t listen. He dragged me to our room and threw me on the bed. As he ripped the bodice of my dress, I closed my eyes and wished I was anywhere but here. Somewhere I was cared for, somewhere where people did not just see me as an object, somewhere where I was…loved.

May

I kept my head down as I walked down the street, hoping no one would notice the bruise blossoming on my cheek. I shivered as a cool breeze, left over from the fading winter, blew through my thin dress. I had no idea what was wrong with me. I felt sick to my stomach and I had a headache. Charles didn’t know of course, but I was going to one of the locals who knew quite a bit about medicine. I hated doctors, especially ours. He was a good friend of Charles and he would tell him I had been so see him.

I stopped in front of Alison Jenkins’ house and knocked on the door. A small boy answered it, staring wide eyed at me with dark blue eyes. I smiled at him. I loved children and had wanted some of my own. Marrying Charles had changed that. There is no way I would bring a child into that house.

“Hello? Oh, Mrs. Everson. How are you?”

I smiled politely. “I-I’m not sure, Allison.  That’s why I’m here to see you.”

“Come in Esme,” my friend said softly. 

She closed the door behind us and led me into a small room. Herbs of all kinds hung from the ceiling and the aroma made me nauseous.

“So, what is the problem?”

I told her and she frowned, her eyes creased in worry. “I see. When was your last monthly?”

I blinked at her in surprise and thought back. “March,” I said softly.

“Could you be pregnant?”

I remembered that day last month and shivered. I could be pregnant; and by my husband who took me by force.

“Esme, don’t cry,” Alison said, wrapping her arms around me. “It will be okay.”

“I can’t bring a child into that house, Alison. I can’t!”

Alison was silent for a moment, before she began hesitantly. “There are…certain herbs you can take so you don’t have to.”

I stared at her in horror. “You want me to kill my baby!”

Alison shook her head. “Of course not. Never. I’ll just help you with whatever you decide.”

I nodded. “I have to leave.”

Alison nodded as well. “Let's get started then.”

I stood and suddenly felt peaceful. I was escaping the horror and I was going to have a baby as well. A baby. Something I always wanted and dreamed about. Things would be alright now. We would leave, my baby and I, and live somewhere where Charles could not find us.