THE HOUSEWIFE

Prologue

Oregon, Portland, 1989

“Someone help me!”

The little child knew something had to be done when the scream ripped across the house, breaking the evening’s stillness. Mother’s screams for help were always earsplitting and they were heard even from the child’s bedroom. Daddy always hurt Mommy, and the little child didn’t like it.

The screams never stopped. The child heard it every night, and Mommy was always in pain. Something had to be done. It had to be tonight, or else Daddy would keep on hurting Mommy.

The child headed out of the bedroom to Mother’s rescue. The door was ajar, and the child peered into the room. Daddy shoved Mommy, and she fell on the bed, hitting her head against the nightstand. Then she sobbed.

“Leave Mommy alone,” the child said and barged into the room.

Daddy turned swiftly. He snapped, “Go to your room and don’t come out!”

He grabbed Mommy by the hair, brought her to her feet, and slapped her. Mommy slipped out of his grip and ran to the window, desperately searching for an escape route to no avail. She scratched her fingers against the window pane, her sharp nails screeching as they came in contact with the glass. Daddy fixed a blow. He was about to hit Mommy when she ducked down, and his punch smashed into the window, shattering the glass into pieces. Shards flew across the room and clinked loudly as they hit the floor.

He pulled Mommy from the floor and shoved her into the wall.

“Please, let me go, Edwin. I’m begging you!”

Daddy punched her in the face.

“Somebody help me!” she screamed, but her screams were never heard.

Daddy grabbed Mommy’s hair and choked her. She gasped for air.

“Stop it, Daddy! You’re hurting her!” the child cried.

Daddy didn’t stop. Somehow Mommy summoned her hands and pushed Daddy violently. He staggered, and toppled over the window sill, landing on the ground with a thud.

The child stood there, eyes widening. It was the first time the child witnessed a killing.