Unbroken

It wasn’t the first time, but it would undoubtedly be the last. 

Hands shaking, heart pounding, she burst through the front door, grabbing her coat on the way out. She had never experienced anger like this before. The kind of anger that didn’t just swell up in your chest but slowly spread from the gut, making its way to every hair follicle, your whole body rising with tension. Sarah’s chest rose and fell rapidly as she searched her coat for her keys, praying she didn’t have to go back inside for them. She heard them jingle and fall between the driver seat and the center console while she was looking at the house's front door, making sure he wasn’t following. She’d never felt so stupid before, either. She knew what kind of man he was before they married, yet she seemed surprised that he hadn’t changed. They don’t ever, do they? Always pleading that they're a better person now. That who they were at the time wasn’t them. They were just angry, and it was in the moment. Bullshit. This is who he is and who he will always be. 

Running away wasn’t something she was new to. She kept an overnight bag in the car with a change of clothes, a travel-sized toothbrush set, and a pillow with a small blanket that her great-grandmother had given her. It made her sad to think of the blanket because, in many ways, she, too, felt old beyond her years and tattered. Unlike the blanket, held together by the superior stitching of the times, she was beginning to unravel. This is not what her great-grandmother would’ve wanted for her. She didn’t leave an abusive husband herself and come to America alone with five kids so that this could be the life that Sarah led. Fixating how she was disappointing yet another person, she saw the front door open and felt a twinge of panic. Knowing the keys were in the car, she hastily hit the push-to-start button and peeled off. 

Sarah loved to drive; it was one of her favorite things ever. Just you, the road, and your music. Pure bliss. Even after a situation like this, she still loved it. Maybe she loved it more because it put miles between her and that bastard husband of hers. It was always during the drive that the tears came. Hot and seemingly endless, she let it all out when she sat at a red light. It was late at night, so when she heard a honk behind her, she knew she hadn’t moved for a few turns. Carrying on, she decided to head up to the parkway and pull off by one of the lookouts. She loved the view, and the idea of sleeping under the stars made her happy, if only briefly. 

She pulled into the lookout, parked her car, and felt her heart skip a beat. The view always took her breath away. Seeing the lights from Manhattan across the way was stunning, so close you could blow them out. She was always comfortable in nature; having spent her younger years camping with her family or going for trips in their RV, the outdoors didn’t scare her. Since home no longer felt like home, she felt safer in the natural world. While pulling the seats down for a makeshift bed, she knew she would have to call Ellie in the morning and ask if she could come by for a few days. Ellie was the only person who knew how bad things could get between her and Tom. She'd known Ellie since daycare and trusted her with her life. It was with these thoughts that she slowly lulled herself to sleep. 

The sunlight tried its hardest to break through the clouds that morning, but the sky wouldn’t have it. She awoke to light rain tapping the sunroof, smiled, and sighed. She loved rainy days too. It felt almost as if Mother Nature was grieving with her, letting out all of the pent-up anger Sarah had harbored for years. The rain was releasing and washing away everything she could not control. Packing the overnight bag, she started the car and called Ellie. 

It only ever took two rings before Ellie answered the phone and assured her that she could stay however long she needed to. That's what she loved about Ellie. She was the most understanding person about this whole situation. Sarah knew she had to leave. More often than not, she told herself she would, but she loved Tom. She'd loved him her whole life. They were high school sweethearts, and he was the only person she could see herself being with. She'd gotten accepted to some of the top universities in New York, only to do two years of community college because Tom told her she wouldn’t need an education. He loved the idea of Sarah being a housewife, and only now did she realize it was because it limited any of her options to leave.

She pulled into Ellie’s driveway a lot sooner than she’d hoped. Although she loved her friend dearly, she hated the look on her face when she saw the bruises. Sarah didn’t need to look to know that her right cheek was swollen and beginning to bruise. She could feel how tender it was throughout the night as she avoided sleeping on her right side. When Ellie opened the door and rushed out, it was written all over her face how badly Sarah looked. 

With a big but gentle embrace, Ellie hugged Sarah grabbing her overnight bag and ushering her gingerly inside. She never asked too many questions, and for that, Sarah was always thankful. Relieving the horrors was always too much, and Ellie knew she would tell her everything when the time was right. Ellie carried her bag to the guest bedroom, which should’ve been called “Sarah’s Hideaway” for how often she stayed there. Before closing the door, Ellie did another once-over of Sarah’s face before telling her breakfast would be ready after she bathed. 

Considering Ellie’s house’s size, the bedroom was standard-sized, with a quaint bathroom in the left corner. Ellie and her husband worked in the city, but Ellie often worked from home to be there for the kids. It worked out for them both. Sarah sighed as she undressed and filled the tub with hot water. Ellie started stocking this bathroom with Epsom salt, she noticed. Probably because of how often she came over battered and bruised. 

I don’t deserve a friend like her. 

She scooped the salt out and spread it into the water. When it was just high enough, she turned off the water and slipped into the tub, feeling more of the bruises as she did. She looked down at her wrist and saw the beginnings of his handprint, where he grabbed her to answer him. And her right hip was already purple from where he threw her into the table. She slowly reached her hand to her cheek, only to wince when she grazed it, and suddenly felt so small. She wrapped her arms around her legs and wept. 

When she finally came downstairs sometime later, she wore a plush deep maroon robe Ellie had left hanging outside the bathroom door and a pair of matching slippers. Sitting at the island in the kitchen, Ellie had a second cup of tea, waiting along with some biscuits, honey, and butter. The sight almost made Sarah weep all over again. It saddened her to think of how much Ellie did for her, but it also made her incredibly grateful. She went to the seat next to Ellie’s and slid in quietly. Ellie didn’t look up when she spoke. 

“It was over the remote this time. I asked him where the charger was because the battery was low,” Sarah’s voice was shaky. “I didn’t hear him when he said he would check the drawer for it, and I’d gotten up to check when he grabbed my wrist and twisted it back. He shouted, asking if I thought he was incapable of finding it himself. I’d tried to explain that I didn’t hear him when he released my arm and threw me onto the table. He kept asking if I thought he was a child, and I tried-” her voice cracked, “to explain that I hadn’t heard him. I guess he didn’t appreciate my tone, or maybe he thought I was talking back. I don’t know, but that’s when he punched me in the face.” Slower, more significant tears began to swell. “I didn’t think. I just grabbed my coat and ran to the car.” Ellie was silent while Sarah spoke and only lifted her head when she thought Sarah had finished. Sarah stared at her cup of tea and let her tears slowly fall onto the side of the glass. 

“Sometimes,” Sarah began again, “I think about killing myself. That it’s the only way he’ll leave me alone...” she trailed off. 

“Sarah,” Ellie’s voice was very soft, “please don’t.”

And when Sarah looked up, she could see the tears in her best friend’s eyes. 

It hurt her to see Ellie be anything but happy because she was the purest soul she knew. What had hurt her even more was that the same emotions she felt were reflected on Ellie’s face. She knew she had to get out of her situation and fast. It was only a matter of time before he broke Sarah permanently, or much worse…

“Sarah, I’m serious. You need to leave.” Ellie broke the silence. 

“You don’t think I know that?” said Sarah. 

Ellie sat with this thought for a second, then said, “Sarah, this isn’t normal. I know you and Tom have a history that dates back to when we were kids but look at yourself.” She motioned to the bruises on her wrist, the ones she could see no matter what. 

“I would if I could, but what would I do? Where would I go?” Sarah sighed. 

“You can live here! Please. I can’t stand to see you like this anymore.”

“Thank you,” Sarah looked down,” but it isn’t that easy. I love him. I always loved him. You know how he is.”

“Of course, I know how he is, but you’re not kids anymore, Sarah.” 

“I have thought about leaving, you know. Packing all my shit and just leaving in the night.”

“Then do it! Sarah, please.” She paused, “One day… one day, it won’t be you calling.” Ellie’s face grew grave.

She let the thought linger, filling the space between them. And then they were quiet again. Staring down at their teas, unable to break the thick tension. She knew everything Ellie was saying was true. These weren’t thoughts that hadn’t crossed her mind before. She was all too aware of how things had escalated quickly with Tom. How soon before he took things too far? 

With a weak smile and a gentle hug, Sarah said goodbye to her dear friend and hoped she would see her soon under better circumstances. She’d only spent the day at Ellie’s, not wanting to take up any more of her time, she told her. It was actually because she couldn’t stand to see how what was happening in her marriage was affecting everyone she loved outside of it. While she loaded up the car, she paused for a moment. Staring at the ice cleaner her father had given her before the last snowstorm, she again let herself be consumed by the possible thought of freedom. She quickly closed the hatchback and jumped into the front seat. Her heart racing excitedly, she looked in the rear-view mirror as she began to pull out of Ellie’s driveway. Her cheeks were flushed with color, making her nose look powdered pink. This was the first time in a long time that she saw herself with color on her face that wasn’t bruising, and she felt beautiful. She also felt giddy. 

Now alone, she fully let herself think about the new, ugly option. As taboo as it was, why should she be the one to leave the marriage permanently? How come she had to be forced into a corner? She wasn’t some soft-bellied, helpless creature. She felt the emotions begin to swell in her chest. There are ways around this, and accidents could happen. She pulled the car out of the driveway, and the whole ride home, she let her mind wander at the possibility of killing Tom.

Sarah passed her home three times before finally pulling into the driveway. She was frantic. The idea of no longer living in this hell hole made her giggle out loud. Tom wasn’t home and wouldn’t be for a few more hours. The only perk of a husband in big business. She grabbed her bags from the trunk and hesitated before slamming it shut. The thought of something going wrong made her suddenly nauseous. 

She approached the front door and realized her keys were still lodged between the seats. Doubling back to grab the keys, she thought of accidentally hitting him in the driveway. Simple enough. She didn’t see him. As she returned to the door, she saw the curtains on the neighbor’s house move. Sarah knew it was Mrs. Haymitch, a sweet older woman who never made it known whether she could hear their arguments. She waved and chuckled as she let herself into the house, immediately struck with the events of the night prior. 

The remote was in pieces, the charger scattered across the floor, the table shifted away, and the drawer still left open, half limp as it clung to one side. He didn’t clean up anything. She couldn’t help but wonder if he ever did after these incidents. She’d never thought about how infuriating it was that she had to clean up the mess he caused. Constantly cleaning up after him, she was. The rage from the night before began to make its way up her throat, and although she could no longer cry, she let out a thick, ferocious scream. 

She couldn’t live like this anymore. She couldn’t stay here and pretend that this man loved her. This isn’t love, and she knew it never was. But she couldn’t divorce him either. She had no family anymore. Her only friend who kept in touch was Ellie, and although she always offered her safe refuge, she knew the toll all of this was starting to take on her. She knew Tom wouldn’t let her go so willingly. There was nowhere she could go that he wouldn’t follow. 

It's funny how those words, so romantic in the beginning, now taunt her. She knew it was true, in any case. He was the kind of man who would find her wherever she tried to go. He always joked that no one could have her if he couldn’t. Only now did she realize the truth behind those words. She sighed. Even if she could somehow leave him, what if he took up another wife and beat her too? She knew that this wasn’t an isolated incident. He’d been known for his temper throughout high school, but channeling your anger into football was much different from turning your wife into a punching bag. How naïve she’d been, how stupid. 

Just as she finished sweeping the last remote pieces off the floor, she heard a slam. Her heart dropped to her stomach faster than he closed the car door. She knew that this time it was different. She couldn’t find herself making excuses anymore. She knew she would finally stand up for herself, take the beating, but fight back. She ran into their downstairs bathroom to prepare herself. 

Come on, Sarah. She splashed her face with water. You can do this. You’ll be fine.

“Honey, I’m home,” his voice thundered throughout the house. She almost thought she could see the mirror shake in the bathroom. He wasn’t over the argument, and she doubted he appreciated her running off in the middle of it. 

“Babe?” 

The word itself seemed to smack her in the face. He only ever called her babe when he brought home flowers, but judging by his tone, she knew he hadn’t planned to apologize. 

Sarah turned off the sink and made her way out of the bathroom slowly, bracing for impact. 

“Yes?” her voice quivered.

“Why didn’t you answer when I called you?” he asked. 

“I had the sink running. I couldn’t hear. I’m sorry.” 

He was studying her hard, and as he did, his eyes made their way over her face, to her wrist, and landed on her hips, which he must’ve known hurt from how she came out of the bathroom, half limping. Tom started making his way towards her when she shuffled towards the stairs. Still frightened, she didn’t want him to touch her. She knew that this time, everything was different. She was thinking clearly and refused to continue to be a pawn. 

(One day…)

He cocked his head to the side as he watched her apprehensively reach the staircase. His face was riddled with confusion, and he looked at her like a dog backed into a corner, as if she would bolt at any moment. Sarah watched his face go from confusion to frustration in a split second. She knew their slow dance was starting to piss him off. 

“What’s wrong?” but he couldn’t keep his voice from rising. “ANSWER ME. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

(…it won’t be you calling)

Sarah made a half-mad dash to the staircase, Tom following. She was trying to climb two stairs at a time when she stumbled, and he was on top of her in no time. He had pinned her arms back and was in her face, screaming. 

“Are you fucking kidding me? Where the hell have you been? Stop moving!” but she knew she couldn’t, not now. He was so close to her face that she could feel the heat of his breath, and his spit hit her in the face. That was the wake-up call she needed. His breath wasn’t the only thing beginning to heat up. She could feel her anger boil over as she began to tremble. She swung her left leg right between his legs, causing him to whimper and release her arms. He sat in the middle of the staircase, bracing himself. His face reddened to a deep purple, “YOU FUCKING BITCH!” He spat. 

She’d never hit him before, and her face lit up like a child on Christmas. She made her way to the top of the stairs when she turned back and saw him beginning to regain focus. She needed something, anything. She knew she couldn’t fight him off without an advantage, and now he was angrier than ever. 

But she was angry too. Angry about all the times she had to cancel plans because of his manipulation. Angry because her body had seen more bruises than sunshine. Angry that she had caused her closest friend pain. Angry that her parents had died before they ever knew what Tom was. Angry that she had spent twelve years of her life making excuses, defending him, loving him. 

Dashing towards the bedroom, she searched frantically for something, anything, that she could use. Spotting the hanging light fixture, she clawed at it until. She felt two of her fingernails snap off, and she whimpered as the blood ran down her hands. 

“Fucking shit. Come on!”

Her hands slipped twice before she felt it wiggle loose. Once she felt it give, she ripped the lamp off the wall and sprinted back to the staircase. He had just reached the top when she swung the light. 

Call it luck, fate, or divine intervention, but the lamp connected perfectly with his right temple’s soft, squishy skin. Glass shattered into his face as it twisted in a grimace, and then shock and confusion flashed as he tried to steady himself on the steps. She focused on his feet and remembered how his socks never found the proper grip on the wooden staircase. 

Oh, how she used to joke that one day he would get hurt if he didn’t start to use the slippers she’d bought him for his birthday three years ago. She continued to brace the lamp as she watched him struggle to steady himself. He took one awkward step back, slipped and missed the second step, and began to fall down the stairs. 

It felt like he was falling forever. Sarah stood at the top of the staircase, mouth agape, watching his head slam into the wall. A small circular indent appeared on the wall as he continued to rock back and forth, his legs occasionally intertwining with the banister. At one point, his foot slowed him down for a second as it wedged between two rails. It snapped and tore the rail off the banister as the momentum of his heavy chest propelled him toward the bottom of the stairs. She heard his neck snap, and it sounded like he’d hit every stair in the staircase before thwacking the tile floor in the foyer. His leg was twisted in the wrong direction, his back bent at an inhuman angle, and his eyes staring off into the kitchen, unmoving. 

Sarah rushed down the staircase, slowing when she reached the last two steps. 

“Tom?” she called out. “Tom? Can you hear me?”

He lay still as she strained to see if his eyes had moved. She approached his face and saw his eyes were bloodshot, his mouth trickling with blood. The side of his temple that met the lamp lay on the cool white tile, blood pooling. 

She walked back to the staircase, dropped the lamp on the floor next to her, and stared at him. This man, who for years had built his body up to pristine conditions, lay there broken, looking smaller than he had ever been. Thinking she saw his chest move, she stepped over him and headed to the kitchen, where she had laid her purse across the table only a few hours earlier. She began to search for her compact mirror, finding it wedged between concealer and Aspirin. She walked cautiously back over to where his body lay, placing the mirror under his nose. She saw that there was the faintest stream of steam. He was alive. 

Now she had a choice. She could call the police and get an ambulance to the house to save him or wait until he died and then make the call. 

Saving him means there’s a chance, maybe a slim one, that he would die in the ambulance, which would help clear her of his murder. It also meant running the risk of his survival. Waiting meant she could be sure of his death but would face the greater possibility of going to jail. She slumped on the wall across from where he lay, staring at him intensely. She knew that by his slowing breath, time was of the essence. 

She didn’t know how long she had been sitting on the floor staring at him when the house phone rang, making her jump. She walked over slowly. 

“Hello? Sarah dear, is that you?” she recognized the voice immediately. It was her neighbor. 

“Mrs. Haymitch. Hi,” Sarah said. 

“Honey, I heard the most intense ruckus, worse than usual. Are you okay? Has he hurt you?” 

Sarah couldn’t believe her luck. That meant that Barbara Haymitch had heard every time he screamed and threw her into the walls.  

“Mrs. Haymitch, I need you to call the police, please.” That’s when the tears came, “Tom and I,” she choked, “he’s fallen down the stairs.” She didn’t hear when Barbara hung up the phone because she had placed hers down and began to sob. Fat, wet tears streamed down her face as she looked into his bloodshot eyes. She couldn’t believe it. 

When the ambulance and the police arrived, Barbara Haymitch got to them first. She had heard it all, and nothing stopped her from telling the police about the hell Sarah had been living in. Sarah, relieved that she didn’t have to talk to the police right away, sat on the steps outside, wrapped in a blanket. She had watched as they placed his body into the bag and zipped it, carrying him out on the gurney. She saw the lights, pale compared to the sunset, flashing all around her home. The neighbors stood outside looking, and she was certain they all knew. Maybe they’d known for years and would tell the police what a fucker Tom was. 

A tall policeman with a thick beard sauntered over, one hand bracing his gun, the other holding a small notepad. 

“Ma’am, my name is Officer Jenks. I’ve spoken to your neighbor who placed the call, and it seems there has been a history of domestic abuse at this location.” Jenks did a once over of her face, and she knew he didn’t need to ask any more questions. “Is there someone you can call to stay with tonight?” he asked. 

It only ever took two rings before Ellie answered.

December 2021