Day 13—Just Kill Yourself

He had been beating her or roughing her up every day for 7 years. She felt like a football dummy. All that she remembered at this point was that she was with a man who was mostly attractive, couldn’t control what he said and drank occasionally but not as often as one would think. He was extremely attractive and charming. Of course he usually had many girlfriends, but that wasn’t the issue anyway. She was surprised that she hadn’t had to get her face reconstructed yet.

She’d thought about how she was going to do it before. The car in the garage was so cinematic and drawn-out. Their guns would do fine, but what if she missed? He would beat her into partial consciousness and then she would not have succeeded. Overdose seemed one of the best options, but her body tended to resist drugs, so she figured it would just conclude in getting her stomach pumped or vomiting of her own accord. Finally she decided.

“I’m going to Marlene’s house.” He had finished roughing her up for the morning and was in the shower.

“Cunt.”

“See you later.”

She took a thin jacket and adjusted her jean leggings over her 75-lb. legs. She had been very proud of her weight this week.

Lakeview bridge was her favorite. When she had been in college, they’d ambled over it, driving stoned or drunk, lazily, laughing. Sometimes students would interlace political protest signs among the bars. The day was crisp but still extremely pleasant.


She walked to the sidewalk portion and then began moving forward. The cars were coming on fairly quickly now. She took off her jacket, making sure to keep it tucked to the side of the road where no car would have to run it over. She straddled the railing and let herself go, submitting. Free.

--
“What do you tell a woman with two black eyes?” he slurred. The guys laughed.

“YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE TO TELL THAT BITCH TWICE!!”

“What do you tell a woman with bruises around her neck?”

“Stop eating my fuckin Cheetos.” The guys chuckled, but this time not as loudly.


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