Runaway

"You know I hate playing hide and seek!" Charles screamed. Diana curled into a tighter ball, hidden under the sink. She held her breath and hoped that this mood would pass soon, so she could finish putting her plan into motion. "Either come out or I will start shooting this gun. I don't care who or what I hit, bitch."

As their first anniversary approached, Diana had realized what a mistake been to marry this man. She never knew one day from the next who her husband would be or what he would do. Him shooting a gun randomly would be a good day compared to some of the other things that he had done. The memories chilled her, they also helped her resolve. This was her only chance a t a normal, happy life.

"You have until the count of three. Once I start shooting, I'm not stopping until your dead or I'm out of bullets." His sneakers squeaked right by the sink. This was it, he had found her. "Have it your way, Bitch. 1,2,3."

His first shot shattered the window above the sink. Diana squeezed her eyes shut and prayed that the neighbors would call the police, it was her only chance for escape. The next shot hit the refrigerator, probably the picture of her that he had insisted on putting up. At first his mood swings were cute, part of the package of being with a musician. They had been more frequent and more violent. The medicine that the Doctor had prescribed only seemed to worsen the mood swings, not help them as promised.

"It's Bitch hunting season and I'm not stopping until I feast on your carcass tonight." Another shot, this time in the living room. Diana wished that the neighbors would hurry in calling the cops or that he would give up, grab a beer and fall asleep in front of the TV. A knock on the door made everything go silent. "What the fuck do you want?"

The other person was muffled at first but came in clearer, which meant they must have forced their way into the house. "...Last time we told you if we were called out here again for this, we would be forced to take you in."

"I'm not going anywhere until that whore I call wife shows her ugly face and makes my dinner." There was a faint buzz sound, followed by Charles hitting the floor. She could barely make out what he slurred but she was sure it was: "Jail food is better than her cooking anyway."

"Ma'am. Diana. If you're here, it's safe to come out. Your husband is in the back of the squad car." She crawled out of the cabinet. When she tried to stand, she fell into the police officer. "Are you OK?"

"I just need to get out of here."

"Do you have somewhere to go?" Diana shook her head. "You can stay with me until you figure something out. I have a spare bedroom."

Charles sat in the back of the squad car, his head pounding. He slumped back, his eyes fluttered before finally closing. The arresting officer looked back at him, shook his head. He figured a night in the dry out cell would do Charles some good. It wasn't the first time that he had been in there and the way things were going, he would either be jailed for a long period of time or he would die. Which one was preferable seemed to be a question that everyone had a different answer for.

"Hey Dick, I'm going to get the wife to safety. She's going to stay in my spare bedroom for a while. Can you handle getting him in by yourself?"

"Yeah, but I have to say you are making a big mistake here. He will find out you're shagging his old lady and it won't be pretty."

"It's not like that."

"It never is."

Charles woke up in the cell, disoriented. The hair growing from his chin itched, and his stomach growled. "Where the Hell am I?"

"Well good morning, Sunshine." The Desk Sargent smiled at him. Her teeth were a perfect contract to the color of her skin. "You must be starved, I heard you slept the whole night through. I'll see if I can get you some breakfast. And then you need to get a hold of someone to bail you out."

After breakfast, Charles' mother paid the bail money. They didn't speak on the way to his house. Finally, she broke the silence, "You have to stop drinking and stop taking the pills. It's killing you and it's killing me to watch this happen."

Once he got inside, he found a note from Diana saying that she had left him. The tears poured from his eyes. She was his life, she was his everything. Why didn't she know that? Why couldn't she see it? He asked around if anyone knew where she was at. At last, one of the girls he had cheated on Diana with told him that she was staying with a young cop

He found the address with ease and drove himself over. He pounded on the door and there was no answer. Visions of his wife and the young cop naked and in bed together, filled his head. He found a window that was open, and let himself in.

"Diana, are you here?" A moan from a room upstairs told him what he needed to know. He climbed the stairs, prepared to confront Diana and her jiggalo. He opened the door and found her by herself. "Where is he? Is he bigger than I am? Is that why you're shacked up here like a common whore?"

"Dennis is gay. He's letting me stay here as a kindness to get away from you."

Charles grabbed her by her hair and pulled her out of the house. He took his gun out, stuck in his mouth and pulled the trigger.