Trifecta Week 106/ Forced My Hand


Welcome Trifectans, friends and visitors to another Trifecta Challenge! Happy Hanukkah to our Jewish friends, this weeks challenge is for you. The word this week is Tush and this is my 333 word story called Forced My Hand.

tush


1. a long pointed tooth; especially : a horse's canine

2. an interjection used to express disdain or reproach

3. buttocks (slang)

                                                                         Forced My Hand


 
I’m not a violent person by nature, but circumstances forced my hand.
Eight years ago I was married to Skylar Drake.   We meet freshman year in college when he commented on my  tush. It made me laugh. His handsome features had me dropping my guarded behavior.  
 I was a foster child determined not to be a victim. I was going to make something of myself. He was a fatherless child trying to do the same. We fell in love; at least I thought we did. 
We married, but it was like someone hit a switch. Skylar became a cold-hearted beast.  He started first with beatings, rape, and progressed to imprisoning me as his sex slave.
For three years I lived in his dark insidious world, until a fortuitous FBI raid liberated me.    I testified against Skylar and they convicted him on all charges. His sentence amounted to life.
I rejoiced watching them take Skylar away.   “You’ll never see him again,” they told me.
I hit rewind, got help from organizations in line to help abused and trafficked women. I even went back to college, earned my degree. I was doing good outwardly, but nightly nightmares kept me reliving the horror I’d gone through.
The call came five years to the day of his incarceration.  They’d promised!  Now Skylar was out, they let that bastard out!
 I knew without knowing he would come for me, so I prepared for his homecoming.  It took Skylar a week to find where I lived, another to stalk my movements by the time he broke into my home I was ready.
Skylar woke in my world, tied to a metal chair in a cold room, trapped.   
I had no choice but to finish out Skylar’s sentence. As I’ve said, I’m not a violent person, but Skylar forced this action.  Stroking the bristled hair on his handsome face, I kissed him, before cutting Skylar’s throat; then threw him in a prepared hole.
 That night I slept like a baby.

Thank you......


Copyright © 2013 Glynis Rankin

18 comments:

  1. Sleeping like a baby is what it's all about. Such a rich story in a short space.

    bit of crit: you have "during" instead of "doing". And I'm gonna have a tiny whine about nightly nightmares : )

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    1. Thank you so much Kymm!
      I love it when someone critique me it shows they really read the work with opened and honest eyes not just flattery for flattery sake.

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  2. The justice system fails too often. I'm glad she found a way to get her peace when the law fell short.

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    1. So true Janna, I'm not in favor of vigilantism, but we have to protect ourselves.
      Thank you.

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  3. There's such a sure and steady voice telling this and, reading those last two paragraphs, I understand why. Nicely done. Thanks for linking up!

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  4. Yikes. Quite a story. You've got to take care of yourself because sometimes, no one else will. Well done!

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  5. The difference between violence and self preservation has never been more clear. I love that they both got what they deserved in the end-him-his just deserts, and her-peace.

    Powerfully, excellently done, Glynis!

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  6. Yikes! That is some cold, well thought out revenge!

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  7. Rich, cold, well thought, steady - phew all the adjectives are already used, Glynis. Great take on the prompt.

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    1. theinnerzone, I thank you for adding more of them.
      Much love!

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  8. Well done, Glynis! Excellent pace and story-telling here. I noticed in the first paragraph you said meet when I think you meant met. (we met freshman year...)

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