“George would you get off that damn computer and come bed!”
It was the usual nagging of a wife tired of drifting apart from her husband. He shrugged it off as usual. He sat there playing with his computer game trying desperately to get through the dungeon he was currently entrenched within. George often sat on his computer for hours a day ignoring his family, his chores, even his pets. His entire identity was tied to that computer. It was his escape from the life his parents thrust him into against his will.
His wife, Molly was lying in bed in her pajamas knowing there was no point in sexing it up tonight. That man of hers was only going to come to bed, turn on his desk lamp and bury his nose in another book neglecting to even notice this woman who slept in his bed next to him. Drifting apart was probably the nice way of putting it.
How had she fallen in love with a man so distant? Lying in her bed, Molly was staring up at the ceiling fan looking at the flicker of the broken light trying to remember if there ever was any romance in this relationship. She couldn’t even think back to a single moment in time when she could honestly say she did love this man.
She checked the clock. Fifteen minutes had passed since she called to her neglectful husband. This time he inserted some anger into her voice.
“George if you don’t get off that stupid machine and come to right now you can forget about going on that retreat with your friends!”
George was accustomed to the nagging of his bitter hag of a wife. Her anger did not motivate him to do her bidding. He soaked it up. It gave him a rush of power knowing she would fall asleep bitter and angry while he’d happily drift to another word as he read a book.
This hag, this wretched woman who his parents basically set him up with and given him no say at all was the very thing that defined his discontent with his life. His parents had somehow found a way to control every aspect of his life from birth, to what school he would attend to what nasty woman he was to start a family with. He hated her with a fiery passion, and swore every day of his life he was going to do everything in his power to drive her insane.
Both his and her parents had arranged this awful union as a way to merge the families into one. They gave no consideration to the feelings or thoughts of the parties involved, as such they saw to it to make sure if the blissful marriage were to end in divorce, the parents would get everything as the benefactors of their tormented existence.
The unhappy couple had no choice but to build a life together that satisfied those parents. It resulted in them bearing a child they both had no desire to raise. George new Melody was not the daughter he intended to have. He had no love, no affection, and no desire to care for this child that was born of a wife he hated. Especially considering how much his devil daughter looked like the demon wife whom he despised with every ounce of energy. He blamed her for squashing is dreams. He blamed her for every miserable moment of his existence that wasn’t spent pursuing his own endeavors.
George and Molly would put on a show for the elders in their lives that ran the show. Once those visits ended the couple would return to ignoring the child they brought into the world.
Melody herself sat in her room listening to her parents yell back and forth. She knew neither of them loved each other, nor her. She simply got caught up in something before her time. It was not her fault, she didn’t ask to be born into this twisted family. She wanted desperately to love both of her parents yet she knew neither one of them would ever return that love. She could sense how cold they were not only to each other, but to her as well. Some days Melody would get the feeling her parents hated her not because they hated each other, but merely because she had the others blood in her veins.
George finally decided it was time to shut down the computer program he had been using and slowly began drifting towards the bathroom to brush his teeth. There he would begin the long ritual of preparing for bed. He knew his wife was angry by now so he had this routine down to a science. He would maximize his time to get the most anger he could rise in her blood.
George loved it when the women in his life were angry, it gave him joy, pleasure he could not put into words. He spent the next half an hour flossing every tooth meticulously. Then he combed his hair before moving onto shaving. First, his face, then his arm pits. He took his sweet time getting ready for bed, even changing into his bed clothes was something he could make into an art form. He knew he would never please his retched bitch of a wife. He had given up trying after the honeymoon. His job was to get the bitch pregnant which he succeeded. From that moment on he had no further desire to interact with her outside of those outings where both their parents would be watching.
George has barely gotten into bed, reaching for his desk lamp when the phone rang His wife shot him a glaring look that told him it would be the death of him if he made her answer that phone. He picked it up expecting it to be his mother calling to bitch him out for something his wife said, or worse, to schedule some family get together where he would have to pretend to be nice to these bitches living in his house mooching off his hard-earned money.
The voice on the phone was hysterical.
“Oh my god it’s terrible! Drake was in a car accident! You got to get down to the hospital right now! Your father’s already on his way! Hurry up! Linda was found dead on the scene! Drake is in critical condition! Hurry up and get down there to say good bye to your older brother!”
Time stopped for George. He just stood there with the phone in his hands unable to move. He as trying to process the reality he had just been thrust into. As he dropped the receiver he fell to his knees in tears. The voice of his mother could still be heard coming from the tiny speaker now lying on the floor. Molly slumped down beside her husband, placed an arm on his shoulder as she picked up the phone he had dropped.
George had expected that he was running to get his pants on as he ran down the hall to wake up his daughter to tell her the news that her aunt had been killed and her uncle was dying. He knew that by now he would be down the stairs and starting up the car where he would be heading down the highway like a maniac racing against time hoping to reach his brother before it was too late.
It felt like an eternity before George realized none of that took place. He never moved from beside his bed. He sat in that position by his bed, his wife screaming bloody murder as she had to wake up the girl herself and drag her down the stairs. He thought he made it to the hospital and said his good-byes to his oldest brother. He was wrong, he never moved from his bedside. George wasn’t able to face life in that moment.
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