The institution of marriage is
a noose around the neck of all participants. Janet Edwards discovered this one dark
night. Recently separated, she prepared for bed alone in her huge
house on Sycamore Drive, in the middle of nowhere. A house that was
her ex-husband’s idea of a great escape. Recently isolated
from all other human life, she fell asleep slowly
as the splat, splat, splat of the rain
created a rhythmic pattern on the roof shingles. All of a sudden, the splatting was interrupted by a scraping sound – and then another – and then another. Janet rose
from her cold, lonely, isolated bed and
began to make her way down the long corridor leading to the stairs and dead-ending into the front door. While
Janet was descending
down the long, twisted staircase, she couldn’t help but think
ex-husband. “I love our marriage, I love you, you’re so understanding and you make me so happy. So I figure, to better our relationship we’re going to move, to a remote area. A lovely house, indeed it is. All to get away from this stressful city life.” Janet always subconsciously
heard her ex repeating whenever she remembered
just how much
she hated both
the house and
all the loneliness that came
miserable and scared and opening the front door to see what had made that god-awful noise didn’t calm her nerves too much. As Janet peered
out the front door into the velvety black
night, she could see absolutely nothing. Scratch.
There it was again. Scratch.
She screamed quickly and loudly because out of nowhere, she saw
an all too familiar face - a face that once brought her joy, happiness, and, too many times, sadness and defeat. The face belonged to none other than her ex-husband. Seeing him
brought back old memories, old feelings, and old dreams - dreams of a perfect marriage and a perfect
“Ha ha, scared
ya din’t I?” Steven Edwards maliciously
“That would be indicated my scream…” Janet smartly replied. “You may come in if you’d like, Steven.” Janet loved saying his name, she loved everything about him, and she didn’t know why. She wanted to get over him, but yet she couldn’t.
“I don’t want to, I had enough of this house
, enough a you, `sides, I just wanted ta scare ya, that’s all,” he said in his monotone
voice that Janet loathed oh so much.
“You’re drunk. Come in, stay the night, you’ll be safer.” She didn’t want him to stay, she knew neither of them could possibly benefit
from it, but
she still had these irrevocable and unavoidable feelings for this wretched man. Janet knew she should hate him but she still hoped spending time with him would revive his feelings for her.
“Therapy will help you, it will help us, don’t you want help? To make us better…?” Janet can remember herself saying to her husband to try to circumvent
him into going to therapy when she realized their relationship was slowly, but most assuredly retrogressing
to the depths of hell. Therapy, in fact, was probably the worst possible thing for Steven Edwards at the time. It made him stressed and he drank his problems away. I’ve created a monster.
Janet always caught
herself thinking that she was the sole reason for her ex-husband’s rapid change of character.