Heaven

The smell of lilies wisps across the valley; she looks upon the sun that sets in the horizon. What a beautiful day, what a beautiful day, she thinks to herself.
She gathers her skirt around her, so as not to trip on the uneven ground, one last look at the beautiful sky above her and she is on her way home. She is careful so she doesn’t spill the basket of freshly picked berries and flowers that she has picked for him.

For him, she tries, tries so hard, to please him, to make him happy.
Everything he wants, she does. She does not want to make him angry; she does not want to make him crazy.

As she walks, she can still feel the bruising of the beating from last night. She is getting better at hiding them. He doesn’t let her out often. She doesn’t have to hide it as much,
The late afternoon sun caresses her face, and brings warmth to her heart, just a few more minutes of freedom….. Freedom, before she has to return.

It wasn’t always this bad, once he was a loving, caring gentle person, once he kissed and caressed her, instead of beating and molesting her. There was a time long ago, when there was laughter and love.

Each day she hopes for the laughter to return, each day she wakes and prays that this is the day, the day when he realizes he needs her and loves her.


She walks up the path that leads to their home, you would never know by the beauty of the home, the pain that lies within. The flowers line the walkway, the fountain flows so sweetly, the birds sit upon the tree and chirp their beautiful song.

As she walks through the door a sigh of relief washes over her as she realizes he is not home yet, she still has time to make his dinner. A fear rises in her suddenly; she can not remember what it is he wanted, what did they have last night? Was it chicken or steak?

Everything has to be planned so perfectly, so carefully, never the same thing two nights in a row. For if even the same vegetable is served, a beating is sure to follow.

She hears his car coming up the driveway, it is too late, and once again she has failed.
She has made him mad, she knows even before he walks in the door.

The screaming starts almost immediately, the first kick, she cowers to the ground.
“I tried, I tired for you”, he doesn’t care, he doesn’t hear her. He takes the basket of carefully arranged berries and flowers and beats her with them, the petals falling all around. The flowers she so thoughtfully arranged are everywhere.
He takes the berries and smashes them into her face, telling her to eat them, If she can be such a selfish cunt, she can eat them.
She tries to tell him they are for him; she tries to tell him she loves him. The tears are streaming down her face; the blood is pouring over her eyes blurring her vision.

He beats her more, telling her she is a crybaby, she is nothing, and he beats her till she is unconscious.

She lies there on the ground and she knows this is it, the end. She can see him standing above her telling her to get up; she no longer has the strength. He kicks her again, this time in the head. She can hear his hateful words, bitch, cunt, slut. She knows she is none of these, at least she once believed. She can feel the continuous blows to her stomach, her head, the words….. “get up you selfish bitch” “get up” “you still need to cook me dinner you cunt” She can feel the pool of blood forming around here, she can no longer feel the pain, in and out, in and out,

The final blow, he knows that this time he went too far, he knows she will never recover.
Once last shot to the head and she lies there lifelessly.
It wasn’t always bad he tells himself, I did love her once. He watches her die thinking this; he watches her die knowing he had no other choice.

He carries her body to the backyard, where he digs a shallow grave. He looks in and sees the petals strewn across the kitchen floor. He takes one last look at her and he puts the gun to his mouth,

She is running through the fields of flowers she had once picked for the man who murdered her. She stops to smell the lilies; she stops to feel the breeze. She gathers her bouquet in a beautifully woven basket, and falls back on the clouds and looks down from heaven. A single tear escapes her eye, a tear of joy.