The day started out as any other typical day, rising before dawn. Insomnia was the worst… but all the quiet time, alone with my thoughts time, gave me the solitude I needed to plan my escape. I really needed a cup of coffee, but don’t bother with that fearing the noise would wake him. So I poured myself a glass of OJ and quickly asked myself if 2:00 a.m. is really considered morning or can it still be referred to as night so I could add a bit of vodka. What the hell, a splash of vodka wouldn’t kill me. Besides. it really enhanced the taste of the pulpy OJ.
Gazed out the window looking for stars… tried to tell myself that I had only one option and I must execute that option. All the planning I’d done led me to this day and it was time. That carefree, happy girl had been transformed to this scared, brow-beaten woman by his constant complaining and ridicule. One of us had to die, and I knew it had to be him.
By nightfall, it was all over. He was dead. My long brunette locks had been chopped off and my short and sassy haircut dyed an ashy blonde. He would have hated that hairstyle and color, and that knowledge gave me great pleasure. Things would change now, for the better.