"Beaten" - short prose.

He stumbles out of his car and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. The stench of beer combined with the stale taste of cigarettes in his mouth is dangerously obvious, far too obvious to hide his state of inebriation from his wife. Nothing to be done about that though. With any luck she'll be asleep, though it's only just gone 11pm.
After a few failed attempts to get his key into the lock he stumbles into the hallway. Immediately she's there, shrieking and screaming at him. He's late, and Ben's been asking for him all night, waiting for his father to come home and help with a school project. Yet again Dad has come home drunk, but does it matter? Surely Ben is too young to understand anyway,
He listens to his wife and suddenly realises how disenchanted he's become with her. He's bored of her, doesn't love her. She annoys him, spends his money, yells at him. He's only keeping her for Ben. Ben needs a mum. But, Jesus! She needs to shut up. He shouts back at her and out of nowhere he's fuming, screaming at her like never before. Why can't she leave him alone? Why can't she be a good wife? Why can't she shut the hell up for five minutes?!
Suddenly she's on the floor, shuddering in a heap at the bottom of the stairs whilst he stares at his fist, covered in blood. He looks up in horror and sees Ben at the top of the stairs, quiet and quivering.
She gets to her feet. She's up the stairs with a terrified Ben flung over her shoulder and tears staining her face. She hastily packs a bag for Ben, a bag for her. She can hear her husband being sick into the kitchen sink. She leaves with Ben, slamming the front door behind her and hurrying away into the night. She kisses the top of Ben's head and doesn't look back. She is not like her mother-in-law. She is much stronger.


©LBrown.