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Her Plan

By @Blackrose

Till death do us part

Ten seconds.

To kiss away the darkness he set upon her was not enough, her skin prickled with ice, heat, hate. No love. Malice pure Malice. Fraction-ed her soul into five words… Til. Death. Do. Us. Part. Those bonds kept her staring at him waiting for him to finish. Enigma rose into her as she thought about him. Whilst he sliced the medium rare meat. She thought how each bite could take her closer to freedom. It sprang into her thoughts. Of how a lace of poison could easily fix her problems. She could not digest any longer, nor could she sit here without thinking of the precise angle her hand had to be, the trajectory of her throw, how strong the movement of her hand had to be to cut his throat like in the movies. She no longer felt the need to feed herself.

Twenty seconds.

Another glide of the knife through the pink flesh. It was a slow movement to her, even though it only took a minuet before his ravenous mouth consumed what was once on the fork. Did he even chew? Her question seemed to be answered as the second his fork was empty it had landed back on the meat. She watched him intently never removing her gaze from the movement of his hands. Those hands. The ones that continued to insult her and her family. Touched her to soothe the pain he made. “Never hug me again” she thought to herself. Those hands that hit her and mocked her, threw things her way, money, money, money. That’s all she needed to make the pain go away he once said to her. So she sat there and watched. Stab, Chew, repeat, Stab, Chew, Repeat. The world really does wag on the same. unfazed he seemed unfazed to her. The mere fact that he had done something so unlawful, made her heart ache even more. To lie is the greatest sin of them all, and he lied straight through his white teeth.

Thirty seconds.

Stab! Clank of the utensils brought her out of her thoughts of murder. “Am I that handsome that you have not touched your stake at all darling? What seems to be the matter”, he picks of the utensils again and begins to repeat the motions of eating. She opened her mouth to speak. Closed her mouth for no words could come, she picks up the glass of water and drinks. Closes her eyes and speaks.

“Where is my daughter Clifford?”.She opens her eyes to look at him, his brown ones dart back and her for a second just as the meat vanishes into his mouth. she waits patiently, before he swallows. A step she had forgotten is essential when you are eating. “She is where is supposed to be “

“we agreed not to send her there”

“I will not have a woman tell me what, I can and can not do in my household”, he said sternly but with a sweet voice so sweet She felt like she could vomit. her knuckles tightened, nails digging into her skin. “She is only eight”. He stood up from the table. “You have ruined my appetite, I will not speak of this any longer!”

Forty seconds..

With a force like a mighty lion she roared “You did not give birth to her I did, I raised her you did nothing, she is mine, mine and not yours, you are not the father! How dare you dictate my daughters life!”. He turns so slow it makes her dizzy, they begin to waltz until she is trapped between a wall and a hard place. He whispers “Things that don’t belong to me do not belong in my house”

“This is not you house, it our house”, tears begin to trickle down her eyes, she must leave, she must find what once was hers, venom pierces through her eyes, as all she thinks about is….

Till death do us part.

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