You are my sunshine. My only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray. You never know, dear. How much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away.
It’s the third time I’ve heard this song today. It will likely be played a hundred more times. Who knew a beautiful memory box could be so infuriating? It is starting to become a burrowed worm in my brain. I have to figure out a plan with that awful song on replay.
I hear the grandfather clock chime six times downstairs. 6 o’clock AM, yet again. I can’t sleep here; it never feels right when I drift off. My body knows it’s not home, despite my bed being two floors down.
I expect dinner to arrive soon. His dining schedule for me doesn’t follow normal times. If I have dinner for breakfast, so be it. The chef isn’t a James Beard winner, but I haven’t starved. That’s by his design, though. I sigh and accept my rations. The sun filters through wooden slats. I need to focus over my day-old bread and turkey.
My new plan is honing my energy into finding something to bash him with. I have tried rushing the door, throwing his horrific food concoctions back at him, wedging a sheet in the door, and even just screaming in his face. He always seemed to see me coming. So, I stopped trying until today.
My hand clutches the old gift. It’s weighty, but I have been doing push-ups daily to build a little muscle. I need all the advantages against him. He will be back in exactly one hour to monitor me in person. There is always a point in the day where the cameras aren’t enough for him. He needs to ensure he will foil any attempts of my escape. He would never expect me to strike him; he thinks he’s stricken me with too much fear during my screaming tirade. But, he has failed to realize I fear my own demise worse.
I hear the sixth floorboard creak. He’s almost to the top of the stairs. Heavy footsteps shuffle across the planks. The floors are scuffed from years of steel-toed boots injuring them. I lament with them, groaning from the weight of the boots. I hear a hacking cough outside the door. My breathing is a whisper.
“I hope you enjoyed your sandwich today.”
I don’t respond. I stopped responding to him 26 days ago. Yet, he continues to ask me questions and prattle on about his days. I stopped caring, just as he has. Like a lioness in the savannah, I wait for my opportunity.
The smooth pale figurine serves as a stronghold against the splintery wood. He carved this from hand for me during our life before. I remember being moved to tears by his gesture. He wanted it to be a reminder of our love. And I believed him when he spoke of love and giving me everything I desired. He never mentioned that those things depended upon my ability to keep him happy. He also never mentioned that, generally, he’s never happy.
The fairytale shattered that day. The jagged and poorly whittled music box was a harbinger of his behavior to come, but I was too stupid to see it.
Now I prepare for him to unlock the door. It squeaks open to reveal him, lounging comfortably in his leather armchair. The smell of butter wafts in the air; he loves popcorn for this show. Standing in the center of the room, I clench my fist tighter around the evil gift. A thin trail of blood skitters down my hand like ants.
“Oh, a prop for the show? What do you have there, honey?”
I don’t respond. I stopped responding 26 days ago. I have been here for 320 days. I freed myself of him 25 minutes ago. My husband never loved me, regardless of the 520 days we’d been coupled.
The buttery popcorn melts on my tongue. It mixes well with the metallic smell all around me. I smile at my successful attempt. I giggle into his—no, my—popcorn bag. Then, I pause for a moment and just listen. The music has stopped. But, I will always remember.
You never know, dear. How much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away.
Luci Strong is a budding writer, hailing from Mississippi. Her Southern experiences and upbringing shape her writing. She loves to read romances, thrillers, and fantasy novels. When she is not reading, writing, or working in healthcare, she enjoys baking, hanging out with family and friends, and binging various TV shows (current binge: Real Housewives of Atlanta).
Featured image by Tengyart on Unsplash.
