Clarissa was an abused housewife. Anyone who saw her could tell that. Not that anyone ever saw her anymore these days. No, her husband, Shelton wouldn’t allow that. He barely ever let her step foot out of the house anymore. He said no one would want to look upon such a pathetic little waste such as her.

They used to be a happy couple once. At least she thought they were. They met at the restaurant she used to work at. She was his waitress and he was a construction worker. He was so handsome and she couldn’t stop blushing while taking his order. When she gave him his ticket, he asked her out for their first date. Of course, she was more than happy to go out with him. They dated for two years before he finally asked her to marry him. Another year after that, they wed and everything changed.

Clarissa used to be a beautiful, slightly bashful, self-sufficient woman before she married Shelton. She should have seen the warning signs before she agreed to become his wife but she always thought they were just little mishaps from having a hard day at work, or being over tired, or something. He would do little things like give her an angry look if she got into an extended conversation with one of their male friends, or he’d nudge her if he didn’t like something she said or did, little controlling tidbits that seemed like nothing at the time. Sometimes, he would even tell her how to dress. She just thought he was being endearing and letting her know what he liked. She couldn’t have been more wrong. Now she was emaciated, looked strung out, was a nervous wreck, and was under the belief that she could not live without him because no one would ever want an ugly pig like her. Nor would any company be willing to hire her. She had to be extremely careful not to make Shelton mad on a daily basis in hopes of keeping herself from getting thrown, punched, or kicked.

Why didn’t she just leave him that first time he hit her? Why did she allow him to control her? Just like every other abused woman, she thought he loved her. He was having such a bad day that day. Then, she tripped while bringing him a plate of spaghetti and dumped it all over him. He immediately backhanded her hard, sending her crashing to the floor. The blow split her lip pretty badly and he looked down at her in disgust and stormed off to clean up. He came to her later while she was curled up on the bed sobbing and apologized profusely. “I am so sorry, baby. I don’t know what came over me. It’s been such a bad day and I just reacted. Please forgive me. It will never happen again,” he pleaded. Like a fool, she believed him and forgave him. Things didn’t get any better of course. They only got worse.

It was almost four o’clock. Time to get dinner started. If dinner wasn’t cooked and the table set by the time Shelton got home, Clarissa was sure to endure a hoard of beatings. She pulled the hamburger out of the refrigerator, two eggs, and the ketchup. Then, she went to the cupboard and got the breadcrumbs. Tonight was meatloaf night.

Clarissa heard the front door open at five-thirty. A few seconds later, Shelton stomped into the kitchen and grabbed a beer out of the fridge Then he clomped into the dining room and plopped down in his chair at the head of the table. Clarissa was slicing the meatloaf so she could serve her husband.

“Dammit, hurry up woman! I’m hungry!”

Clarissa didn’t speak. Instead, she picked up the pace so she could fill his plate faster. When she was done, she sat down at the foot of the table and placed a small slice of meat and a few vegetables onto her plate. She wasn’t really hungry but if she didn’t eat with him, Shelton would certainly throw one of his fits and hurt her.

Dinner was awkward and quiet as usual. He wolfed his food down like a barbarian and kept refilling his plate until all the food was gone. Clarissa just picked and nibbled at her food. When Shelton was finally done eating, Clarissa quietly got up and started clearing the table. As she started putting the first set of dishes in the sink, Shelton finally spoke. “I’m leaving you,” he said. Clarissa was shocked. What? He has got to be joking. This has to be another one of his evil, controlling mind tricks. He continued, “You disgust me. Look at you. You’re pathetic, you’re ugly, you’re lazy, and I can’t stand to be around you anymore.” Clarissa burst into tears. “Oh, stop your fucking blubbering, bitch! You’re so fucking irritating!”

“But what am I supposed to do? You won’t let me work and I do everything you tell me to.”

“Hell if I care! You can’t even give a decent blowjob. You disgust me!”

“But Shelton, why?” Clarissa bawled. She sank to the floor, defeated and sick to her stomach. How could he do this to her? He made sure she couldn’t make it on her own. He had beaten all her confidence out of her a long time ago and kept her locked up so she had no connection to the outside world anymore. She was a timid and scared being and was just as afraid of going out in public as she was of getting hit by Shelton, maybe even more. She was used to getting hit. She was not used to going outside.

“Get off the floor for Christ’s sake, before I yank you up by your hair,” He bellowed. “I’m going out and won’t be back tonight. And, clean this fucking house!” With that, he stomped out the door and slammed it shut. Clarissa clutched her stomach, curled into a ball, and sobbed so hard she thought she would puke.

Throughout the night, Clarissa went through a tirade of emotions. She never moved from her position on the kitchen floor.

What am I going to do? I don’t know how to make it on my own. I can’t find work because who would want to hire me? I can’t call family because we don’t have a phone and I haven’t been allowed to keep in touch with anyone, not even my parents. With every thought, Clarissa sobbed harder. She began to panic.

When she and Shelton got married, he had moved her all the way to the state of Wyoming, far away from any friends or relatives. He got a house up on Bear Lodge Mountain in the Town of Aladdin, if you could really call it a town. It had a population of 15 where all the residences were at the bottom of the mountain and consisted of one store called The 100 Year Old Store. It was a grocery store, gas station, convenience store, bar, and post office all in one.

Shelton wouldn’t allow a house phone so if there was a fire or any other kind of emergency, there would be no calling 911 for help. The nearest neighbor was miles away, therefore getting to anyone for any type of help was next to impossible. Shelton made Clarissa completely dependent on him so if he left, she was completely, utterly screwed.

Thinking about all of this started to make Clarissa angry. How could he do this to me? she thought. There is no way, no freaking way I am letting him leave me like this! Something has to be done. He has to pay for what he’s doing to me. He will not get away with this. I’ve had enough! Well, maybe if I did my hair, my makeup, and put on some sexy lingerie…. After several hours of plotting, Clarissa finally fell asleep with the thought that she would coax Shelton into staying. She woke up around eleven o’clock in the morning, cleaned the house up real nice, and dressed herself up in a light blue baby doll nighty with a matching thong.

At six o’clock Clarissa finally heard the front door open. She started creeping to the living room, hopeful that Shelton would appreciate her efforts and go along with the plan. The door shut and, was that a feminine giggle she heard? “Hush.” She heard Shelton whisper. Clarissa rushed into the living room, completely forgetting her plan to coax her husband into staying with her.

“Who is this?”

Standing in the living room next to Shelton was a very busty, curvy woman about the age of twenty-five. She had blonde hair, seemed very perky, and immediately looked at Clarissa as if she was the scum of the earth.

“This is Melanie. We were just coming to get my things.”

“But you can’t! What will I do? What did I ever do to deserve this?”

“You look ridiculous. What did you think you were going to do here? Dress up, cozy up to me and hope I wouldn’t reject you like the nasty thing you are? Laughable really, Clarissa. How could you ever think I possibly loved or ever would love you? I never really took you seriously. You were never anything but a quick lay when I wanted it and someone to clean up and cook for me.”

It was those words that did it. After everything she had put up with, after all she had done for him, this is how he was going to treat her? Hadn’t she been through enough?

“I’ll go get your things then.”

Clarissa lowered her head and started into the bedroom. “What an ugly bitch. What did you ever see in that?” She heard Melanie say.

Once in the bedroom, Clarissa reached under the bed and pulled out a shoe box. Inside was Shelton’s .38 Special Revolver. Clarissa had finally snapped.

She grabbed the revolver out of its place, opened it to make sure it was loaded and headed to the living room. She raised the gun, took aim, and shot Melanie right between the eyes. Melanie’s corpse dropped to the floor. Shelton’s face turned white as he saw a new look on Clarissa’s face. A cold, unattached look he’d never seen before and for the first time since he could remember, he was scared. “What the fuck?” He screamed. Clarissa took aim again and shot Shelton in his right thigh. He dropped to the floor in agony, an expression of surprise and terror on his face. Clarissa immediately ran to the corner of the room and grabbed the baseball bat. She approached Shelton, swung the bat, and smashed him in the head, knocking him out immediately.

Shelton awoke hours later tied to the bed and completely naked. His head was aching and his leg was in agony. He opened his eyes and immediately saw Melanie’s corpse hung on the bedroom door by nails and rope. Her eyes were gouged out and her mouth was cut in a grotesque smile from ear to ear. At the foot of the bed was Clarissa, still dressed in her lingerie. She was completely covered in blood and had a look of complete insanity on her face. Various sex toys and lube were scattered on the dresser behind her. Perhaps he had pushed her too far.

To Be Continued . . . .