The Devil Inside by Mark David Abbott

Author:Mark David Abbott [Abbott, Mark David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-06-03T04:00:00+00:00

16

She had to go. It was the only way. She would never give me a divorce. I needed to get out of there and start life afresh—be free—and live without the constant fear that whatever I said or did would be judged and used against me. I just wanted to... relax.

I spent a mostly sleepless night on the spare bed, only drifting off to sleep around three a.m. I woke early, just as the dawn’s rays lit up the room. I had forgotten to close the curtains. I was exhausted, and my head throbbed from a combination of stress and the red wine I’d had the night before. I wanted nothing more than to roll over and go back to sleep, but I couldn’t face seeing her and spending the morning trying to avoid her in the confines of the same house. Sitting up, I rubbed my face and massaged my temples. I could feel acid rising in the back of my throat, my teeth were furry, and my breath smelled of old food and wine.

Standing, I walked to the kitchen, filled a glass from the tap, and gulped it down. I felt a little better.

I walked back into the spare bedroom, stripped off, and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water pound the back of my neck and back. As I leaned against the rear wall with my eyes closed, I thought over everything that had happened, trying once more to work out where I was to blame, what I had done wrong, what I should have done differently. It was a pointless exercise—as always. The same thought process had kept me awake last night, and I hadn’t found a solution. I never did.

There was nothing I could do to make her happy. No matter how hard I tried, she would find something, anything to set her off on a vile tirade of poisonous accusations. It wasn’t me. It was her.

Tears filled my eyes and ran down my face, mixing with the hot water from the shower. I balled my hand into a fist and pounded the tiled wall with the fleshy heel of my hand. I couldn’t go on like this. If I didn’t kill her, I would have a nervous breakdown or a heart attack.

I sniffed, then blew my nose into my hand, washing the snot away in the shower stream. Straightening up, I let the water wash over my face, then turned the shower to cold, gasping at the temperature change. I forced myself to stay there, then turned, so the icy stream ran down my back before turning it off.

It did the trick. As I stood there, shivering in the early morning light, I finally felt awake, alive, and determined.

I knew what I had to do, and I was going to spend the day working out how.

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