Thanksgiving Challenge 2016 Tuesday: Gobble – Home for a Turkey
This is the Fifth article in a seven-day Thanksgiving writing challenge I issued myself and other interested writers. The word of the day is Gobble. For the rules, look up Thanksgiving Challenge 2016.
Pray for that one family member that everyone is worried about who will not to catch a clue. Turkeys are for Thanksgiving.
Constance saw her reflection in the mirror with concern covering each corner of her mouth and the corner of each eye. A pitiful sight to see, her face that is. Far from burning ugliness, she was ugly. Not the type of ugly that could be fixed by the knife either. Skin ugly has a cure. Constance’s ugly had nothing to do with the way she looked naturally. At the same time, ugly was on her face as big as any part of it.
A shiner, a big black and blue circle enclosed her eye. It looked like a burnt blue muffin on her face with a reddish haze around the edges of the bruise. What is so ugly about Constance is the excuse that she planned to give her family about why that black eye shined so black, red, and blue on her face at Thanksgiving dinner. A lie is what she planned to tell her father and her brothers. If she told them that her new eye color exists because Roman made it happen, she feared a confrontation that could lead to jail time for her brothers, death for Roman, or both!
“I started it,” she said to herself out loud without realizing it. “If I would have just….” The thought crossed her mind when she stopped that she sounds just like one of those battered wives on Life Time sobbing about their stories. No she would not be that woman. Roman and Constance do not engage in battery. They are a modern equal couple that would never hurt each other! Yet, her red blueberry muffin eye still existed in the mirror.
Make-up was not a viable option unless the swelling went down. It’s not like she had a steak in the house being a non-red-meat-eater. She wondered if that could even work?
“It’s cold,” she utters aloud. “The frozen veggies will do just fine.” She forced a smile. For a split second she saw a stranger in the mirror and it almost causes her to have a panic attack. The face in the mirror belonged to that body, but the light in her eyes, her soul looked dim and diminishing.
“I’m fine,” she tries to convince herself. A tear fell from her bruised eye as she let a quick sob escape. “I am fine. Roman did not mean to do this. I provoked him. He said he was sorry. I am fine!”
Trying to convince herself that she was okay with the damage the love of her life did to her eye was slowly working. The more she repeated to herself that it was her fault that everything happened the way it did between she and Roman the more she believed it.
Roman and Constance married four months ago pledging to love each other forever. Having covenanted to be for each other a source of guiding love, friendship and support, Roman pushed her on the wedding night. He said that he was engaging in intense husband/wife play, but that was not what if felt like. Two months after that, he grabbed Constance hard by the arm.
“No,” she expresses. “No, I will not fall apart at the first hint of trouble. All marriages has ups and downs.” She was I denial about Roman. Her love for him gobbled her confidence up ever since he pushed her with that look in her eyes and tried to call it foreplay.
“What have I let myself into,” she sobs out again. Roman punched her in the eye because she caught him doing Ecstasy again. She called him a crack head. It was not the right description of his addition, but it angered him nonetheless.
Constance became angry when it first happened, the punching, and planned to have him taken to jail, but she did not. It is ironic that this incident is on Thanksgiving trying to gobble up her happiness.
“I fell. That’s what I will say. Why wouldn’t they believe me, I don’t lie!” I know he really meant it this time when he says he isn’t going to do it again, she thinks.
As she walks out of the door, she sees someone lying on the floor turning pale. It’s her.
Roman is crying. “Wait,” Constance says to herself. “We can fix this….”
Be grateful enough for life to walk away when the love does not match the actions. If it hurts physically to love your spouse, it is not love he or she is giving you. Don’t be a turkey. They end up served for dinner.
© 2016 Rodric Johnson
More by this Author
This is the Fourth article in a seven-day Thanksgiving writing challenge I issued myself and other interested writers. The word of the day is Pilgrim. For the rules, look up Thanksgiving Challenge 201
This is my response to a challenge issued by Ann Carr here on HubPages to take a boring word or words and write and engaging hub about it. I chose watching paint dry.
The challenge is to tell the story from genre perspectives by December 20, 2016, which is the cut-off day for the challenge. We as participants in the Challenge will read all the entries & judge them.
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