The hydracropsychic effect

~Trial by fire~chap.9

Laurent clutched Annie's hand silently as they drove. His judgment day had finally come, and so soon too. Yet it was neither God, nor a host of Seraphim sent to judge him. The rest of his life rested upon the frail shoulders of a 17-year-old girl who could barely handle her own life.

Yet he was anxious. He had no doubt that she would view him differently after she heard what he had to say. His history, he thought was just a little fucked up. She deserved to know though. Still he didn't want to talk about it. He'd always held a "don't ask, don't tell" policy on his personal life, both with his colleagues and the few individuals he'd been able to call friends. He'd always kept to himself, letting the wounds fester under a thin scab of self-hatred. Now she was asking him to pick at the wounds.

He wished he could just let them heal. Women were so fucking inquisitive. Annie's gentle shake brought him back to reality. "Were almost there. Where are you? Come back to me Laurent, don't leave me in the dark." He fought to stay alert. When they arrived they got out of the car and walked across the damp earth to the dock.

"Why did we have to come here Laurent?" She asked. "Its nice and quiet, and we can be alone. Besides this place gives me strength." He looked at the lake suddenly and she followed his gaze. "That night," she paused "You were trying to kill yourself. Was it because of what you had done to your family? Why didn't you just stay in the house with them? God, how could you do that to your own children, your wife? I just don't see that cruelty anywhere in you." She stopped and her eyes lit up. "Those marks, she was hurting you wasn't she Laurent? She beat the shit out of you didn't she? My god."

Laurent winced at the harshness of her voice. He tried to deny what she was saying, but he was speechless. The words wouldn't come so he merely shook his head."Bullshit, look at you, your scared shitless! She's still tormenting you, even from the grave." He held up a hand, he couldn't listen to anymore. He hated feeling like an abused wife, like a fucking cliché.

Yes she had power over him, but it had been given over willingly, at least in the beginning. Then she had taken it too far. The drinking had started, but how to explain this to Annie? She was watching him expectantly, eyes wide in curiosity, or disbelief he couldn't tell which. "Laurent if she was hurting you, you need to tell someone. We could blame her for the fire. Maybe make it seem like you were the victim. You were a victim weren't you? You just got fed up with the abuse that's understandable."

This was exactly what he had been afraid of. She was all too ready to place the blame on his wife's head. She had no power to defend herself, to speak up. For once her jagged truths could not shred the lies he might chose to build around himself. He could make himself the victim. It would make Annie happy, and it would make things a lot easier on him.

Yes, he could do that. But he didn't want any more secrets, if anything he wanted to dislodge this guilt that felt like a huge boulder crushing the breath out of him. He wanted to be able to say, "I did the right thing." And actually believe it. It all came down to fear. He reached out and stilled Annie's hand, which she had been flailing about wildly in her search for answers. His touch silenced her immediately.

"If I hadn't done what I did, she would've killed me. Chaos was in her. Day after day, it was eating her alive from the inside out. She was taking me down into Hell with her and I didn't want to go. Id always known she was rotten on the inside, but the sweet odor of rot can sometimes distract.

Still it didn't really start to show until she started getting drunk. I cant recall exactly when the drinking started, it caught me totally unawares, the drinking, her anger, and her pain. And because we were a family, her pain became our pain. She had always been violent, which If you want me to be honest I never minded. She used to love inflicting pain on me, and I loved it as well. It was only when I deserved it of course.

Then she started acting out violently for no reason other than she felt like it, and not just on me, on the children! The night she broke my sons nose I should've gotten the kids together and left. It only got worse from there. She began to stay out later and later. I often went to sleep alone. The children were usually well behaved; she had frightened them into perfect behavior, and myself as well.

One night, I was woken up by a stinging slap to my face. She was leaning over me, leering into my face through the darkness. I could smell the scotch on her breath, it was heavy and thick. "Wake up Bitch," she growled "˜I thought I told you to wait up for me?" I had tried to stay up but had been so exhausted from working long hours that I had been unable to fight it. When I told her this I was punished with another slap to the face.

"You don't fucking do anything without my permission. Do you understand that?" "Y..Yes Mistress" I whispered. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry. " I bit back a sob as she twisted my hair roughly in her fist. "Get up!" she barked, and I reluctantly obeyed. I knew better than to deny her when she was in this frame of mind. I would always lose. She knew just what buttons to press, just the right amount of pressure to exert to get me belly up, throat bared to her endless cruelty.

I slunk into the living room and dropped into a chair. "You've been drinking again haven't you? You promised me you would stop! Don't you realize how it affects me, do you even care?" "No, I don't. You never seemed to mind anyway." She sneered back at me. "Well, what about the children?" "What about the children? They hate me anyway. You've poisoned their minds. Set them against me. Don't think I haven't noticed. I hear them whispering to each other at night. Saying that I'm crazy. Am I crazy Laurent?" I refused to bite. "Am I fucking crazy?!" she screamed into my face .

"No, you're not crazy. No matter how hard you try to throw yourself over that edge you still maintain your sanity. I know you want to loose yourself in this little hell. You're a coward, you always have been. Always stalking around the abyss, peering in, but unable to take that final step." She a let out a harsh laugh at this.

"Those are some big words from a little worm like you. So that's what you think is it? I didn't know you thought with anything other than your prick." The words had the effect she had meant them to have and I was fully chastised. "Poor little man, unable to face reality. Do you want to leave the children and me? Maybe dispose of me and take them with you? Off to a better life without your crazy wife to bring you down." This was more a statement than a question.

"Mirka, no baby. I love you. I do. Just stop drinking. Things will get better I swear." I had actually believed it when I'd said it. He slipped out of his memories to find Annie watching him eagerly. "Things didn't get any better, in fact they got worse. I realized that I had to do something. I decided my only option was to kill myself.

One night when shed come home earlier then usual and locked herself in our bedroom to sleep off the booze, I put my plan into action. I stumbled through the dark house and climbed up to the attic to look for the gun. It was the only thing left to me by my father after he died. I'm sure he would have grinned to see the final purpose id intended for his trusty revolver. He had loved it and kept it meticulous through his life. Even now as I lifted it from its dusty cloth it was still well oiled and in good repair.

The smell of the ancient polish immediately invoked violent visions of my father. I shut my eyes tight, refused to think of him. Id be seeing him soon enough. The weight of the revolver in my palm was reassuring, then with a trembling hand I lifted the cold muzzle to my mouth, and then I closed my lips around it. My finger tightened on the trigger, I squeezed tighter, tighter.

Then suddenly I heard a howl come from downstairs. At first I thought it was Mirka but no, I recognized the sound as my sons voice. I withdrew the gun and dashed into the children's room. My son was sitting straight up in bed his face and the rim of his nightshirt damp with tears and nightmare sweat. "What is it son?" I asked, coming to sit at the end of his bed. "I'm sorry if I woke you Daddy, I had a bad dream that's all, but I'm ok now. Daddy you look funny. Are you all right? Did Mommy do something? Don't worry Dad it will be ok." He did his best to smile.

As I've told you, our position was particularly hard on the children. My son was forced to mature quickly, and he was older than his years. It suddenly ripped my heart to see my son sitting here trying to be strong. Trying to comfort and protect me when I should be the one to comfort and protect. This whole situation was just terribly wrong, and the only solution I could come up with was to kill myself, to leave my children to practically raise themselves? I realized in that instant that I had to keep it together for the family. I just had to keep hoping that things would get better."

Here his voice broke off and Annie reached out a comforting hand and stroked his face. He didn't want to continue the story, but he had to. Annie deserved to know what she was getting herself into. How much she had misjudged him. "I tried to keep loving them, I really did. I still love them, but at some point it just all became not worth it. My house was a prison, my wife the prison guard, the children my fellow inmates. I was so unhappy, and her cruelties toward me became more vicious, but I bore it.

Until I realized that eventually she was going to kill me. So I planned to do us all in. I planned to end the horror Id had a part in creating. I would see to it that there was nothing left of my family but ashes. So yes, one night after I came home from work, I set the house on fire, and I fled. I felt so wrong for what I did, Id practically done everything shed wanted me to. She had twisted me, and turned me against her and our own flesh and blood.

I realized that I too had to die. It was only fair, why should I live when it was as much my doing as hers? Perhaps my family still needed me in the after life, where we might even finally find happiness. So I set off to go drown myself, but when I got there I couldn't do it. It was my duty, I deserved it, I was not worthy of life, but I wanted to live. As hard as I tried I could not dissuade myself. I crawled over to the tree and tried to decided where to go from there. I had nothing to live for, nothing! Loneliness and misery closed in and I was prepared to do it this time, and then you showed up. And as I watched you, I felt your plight, and fell hopelessly in love. I realized that I did have something to live for, all was not lost. My past did not have to drag me down, if I could somehow have you I knew Id survive.

I called out to you, and you've been my reason for living ever since. I love you Annie, you've saved me from myself, and now I want to save you. I cannot bear to live without you. I understand that I've lied to you and you have every right to send me on my way. If you don't feel the same way just tell me and leave, do not look back, I will end it here and now. Or you can come with me, we can escape this, and when we are out of danger Ill find a job and a place for us to live. Ill take care of you and you will never lack for anything. And if it suits you of course, I will claim you as my wife. But before you give me your answer allow me to love you one last time." He leaned forward slowly and captured her lips in a chaste kiss. When he drew back his eyes were moist and a single tear made its way down his cheek.