The Cycle

“I asked you a question.”

He’s trying to control the conversation.  Don’t let him.  You have the power now.  He’ll never control you again.

“Say something…say something!” His lapse in composure is brief, but she sees the rage that she now knows must have always been there.

“What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to answer the question.”

A pause.  “How could you do what you did?  Those women…”

“Have you never been taught not to answer a question with a question?”  She’s never heard that note of condescension in his voice before.  Not in 8 years of marriage or the two years they dated before that.

I never knew him at all…who is this man?

“You still love me…”  His eyes pin her to the spot, like a butterfly mounted in a display case.  “You miss me.  You need me.  Don’t you?”

don’t need him.  And I don’t love him, not anymore.  But, God help me, I do miss him.  At least, I miss the person I thought he was.

“Answer me.”  Somehow this quiet command is more frightening than all of his rage.

I’m not scared of him.  He can’t hurt me anymore.  I’m not scared, I’m…  Defiant,”Why should I?”

“Because I have something you want.”

“You don’t have anything I want anymore!”  No!  Don’t let him see your anger!  If you’re angry, he wins.

He smiles.  “We both know that’s not true.  I know where your sister is.”


16 responses to “The Cycle

  1. Pingback: The Cycle- Schadenfreude | alienredqueen

  2. Pingback: The Cycle: Meraki | alienredqueen

  3. “This is true. Unfortunately, my MO for as long as I can remember has been to start a story and lose interest.”

    I totally get this statement, including the follow up about how to write something without it being like everything else that came before it. It reminds me of the saying that good artists borrow and great artists steal. I think the essence of that statement is the ability to take bits of things that already exist and create something new with it. Now, if only it were as easy to do that as it was to type it . . .

    • You hit the nail on the head, my friend. Feels like everything has been done (usually by Stephen King. haha) And my MO has pretty much always been the same! I often feel overwhelmed with the weight of details, and can’t then see the forest for the trees. (Please excuse my flagrant use of cliches. )

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