It Won't Happen Again

It Won't Happen Again

Kathleen flinched as he touched her bruised eye.

All because the door slammed in the breeze. He blamed her, again. It was always her fault. When he frequently got drunk, it was her fault.

“Do you enjoy pissing me off?” he snarled.

“I'm so sorry.” she said softly. “It won't happen again.” She knew any signs of defence would result in further suffering.

He turned and stormed out of the kitchen. She could hear his thunderous footsteps climbing the stairs. His bedroom door slamming shut.

He used to be smart. He wrote a book once. That was back in the days when he worked in journalism. He was always good with words. Knew how to use them to his advantage. Except, it seems, in his book. They let him down. Badly.

Kathleen sat at the kitchen table. Her hands hugging a steaming mug of tea. She couldn't take this any more. She'd suffered enough. It was time. She had contemplated leaving only...the consequences. There were always consequences.

She waited patiently for the knock on the door. She knew it would rouse him again, because it would be loud, but she didn't care. Not this time.

“Mrs Jolley?” said the police officer, and Kathleen noticed the slight flinch as he looked at her bruised face. “Is he in?”

Kathleen didn't say a word, but gestured he was upstairs.

As she expected, he stomped out of his room arms flailing, right into the arms of the law, resulting in an assault on the officer.

“You're nicked!” growled the officer, then proceeded to read him his rights.

A smile teased the corner of her mouth, as Kathleen imagined a life without the violence and aggression...but...without her only son?


Word count 295