till death do us part

Dinner was in the oven. The clock on the stove read 6:56pm in green digits. I quickly looked down at my half torned, gold fossil watch. It read the same time as the stove did, 6:56pm. My heart began to beat faster and faster as I stared at the time turn on the stove top. I felt drips starting to form on my forehead and neck. I grabbed the green oven mitts from in front of me, and immediately began to wipe off my soon drenched body. I then began to hear footsteps coming from the wooden, creaky stairs to my right. It was my children. Coming down to complain about how much they're hungry, and wants more snacks. As I try to look for the snacks, I hear keys at the front door. I frantically rush them back up the stairs, shoving the snacks in their tiny hands. As I run back over into the kitchen to check on the food, I felt bare rough skin be slapped across my rosy cheeks. I fell onto the ground grabbing the oven handle. As I grabbed the handle, the oven door slammed open, burning the hairs off of my right arm. I then felt hands tightly wrapping around my neck. The bare hands began pulling my weakened body off the floor, choking the life out of me. As I felt myself becoming weaker and weaker, different thoughts started to run through my mind. Thoughts of the different ways I could've gotten dinner ready faster. It should've been ready by 6:30pm. No, wait, it should've been ready by 6:55pm on the dot. I should've known better than to think I could've washed clothes and cleaned the house before 6:00pm. When dinner isn't finished and cooled off at the perfect temperature for his mouth, my husband punishes me. Last month, the casserole I cooked wasn't warm enough. So he grabbed me by my long, blonde, curly hair and took me straight into the bathroom. He then forced my head into the toilet and flushed over and over again. But that was my fault. I should've known better that day. See, I was getting the kids ready for bed and little crystal had a sore throat. So I kept my husband's food out near the fan to cool it down, while I ran to the store for medicine really quick. When I came back home, the first thing I saw as I walked through the door was my husband sitting at the dinner table. The fan was still on as he stared me down with an angry look on his face. I knew I messed up. I tried to explain to him exactly what happened, but it didn't go so well. He slowly stood up and walked towards me with a strange grin on his face. I thought he was coming over to give me a hug. Instead, he grabbed me by the neck and slammed my face into the fan, causing me to bruise horribly.
When the children would ask what's going on, I would have to tell them it's okay and that mommy and daddy are just playing around. I always try to get them into bed before he gets home. But you know how kids are. Once they hear that front door open they come running down the stairs because they're happy to see and be around their daddy. Now, he always pushes them away though. He always tells me they're not his and compare their features to our neighbors', whom he believes I'm having an affair with. Anytime the neighbor would greet our entire family, Danny would always pinch my side, leaving me with marks. He feels as though frank, our neighbor, only greets everyone to cover up the affair. When we would get inside the house, Danny would always deal with me. I don't want my husband to feel insecure so I made our family stop speaking to frank. Whenever crystal or christen would ask me why daddy doesn't love them anymore, I have to tell them he's just a little sick.
This all began to happen about a year ago. Danny started to come home happy to see his family. And then moments later, he would start to yell and throw things. I love my husband. He wasn't always this way. He found out his father used to abuse him and his little sister about a year ago as his mother was on her death bed. She told him moments before she passed away, leaving him with so much anger and unanswered questions. His mother took his father for professional help. But at the hospital where he was being cared for, was the same place that he died in. A nurse over dosed him one night after finding out the reason he was committed. She felt the deserved to die and getting help isn't fair for his children suffering.
Up until a year ago, Danny thought his father died of heart failure. His mother lied to him his entire life. That haunts and will forever haunt Danny his entire life. After finding out the truth about his life, I took him for help. As soon as we came back home, he punished me because he says he doesn't need the help, and a wife should know her place. When we got home, he began to punch me in my stomach and face. He told me to never take him for help or else the next time I will be dead. I forgave him after punching me because he apologized and said it wouldn't happen again. But soon after that, the punishments became constant. He started to demand things be done a certain way, and if they weren't, he would hit me so I can learn from my mistakes. Some days, he would come home and forget that he demands things be done in a certain manner, because he would ask me why am I going all out for him and that I need to relax. And the very first day he said those words to me felt like everything. But it was the first and last time I ever do things the way I want, because he would always forget and end up hitting me. It's okay though, I know he needs to get all of his anger out because he's been through a lot. And well, it comes with the marriage. I vowed for better or worse. Danny was diagnosed with skitso-bipolar disorder. His doctor said the grief of his childhood memories is what triggers his episodes. He would change into an entirely different person at any moment without anyone realizing. And when he would turn back into Danny, he would be his normal self as if nothing ever happened. Well, that's until something he asks for isn't done the way he wants. Then I would always have to be punished, which I actually do agree with. As a wife, I must do what my husband tells me to do because he is the head of the household. I vowed to be with Danny through thick and thin. For better, or worse. And these days, it seems like the "till death do us part", is right around the corner.