She’s breathing so hard. Her heart is racing. A cloud of dust pluming with each strike of her foot on the dry ground. The sandals she wore broke long ago and now she carries them in her hands as she runs far, far away. Her face muddy from the dirt and the tears it was covered in, she sits down under a lone tree along the path. She wipes the blood from her lip.
As she leans back against the tree visions of what her life could be like danced through her head. She sees herself tend her children, the garden and the livestock, and gaining the adoration of her husband. She sees a table filled with the richness of their bounty, vegetables from their garden, bread she’d made with her hands, lamb from their flock. Love fills her imagination. She conjures feelings of lightness, hope and freedom.
Having caught her breath she rises, picks up her sandals, and begins the long walk back to that place that she can never really leave. Running away means giving up her children and being alone. She is owned, a possession, damaged goods. Those were just dreams after all. He may possess her, but he cannot control her daydreams. There she can be free.
Out From Under the Umbrella 
November 3, 2011 at 1:46 pm
I imagine this was the daydream of many women in ancient times, used and abused, little more than chattel. Sadly, it is also the daydream of abused women to this day.
LikeLike
November 3, 2011 at 2:17 pm
Okay, I just thought I was writing scary stories for Halloween. You win.
LikeLike
November 4, 2011 at 12:29 am
Ahab is right. Daydreams of freedom, but knowing you are nothing more than a possession. And then one day, I woke up. And I was walking away without going back. (Luckily I didn't have children. And it meant being alone for a while, but alone was so much better than being a possession.)You do an amazing job of describing what it feels like.
LikeLike
November 8, 2011 at 11:31 am
Powerful writing D'Ma.
LikeLike
November 9, 2011 at 1:03 am
Yes, Ahab, this is what many women still feel. It makes me sad. :(@MM,I've been reading your scary stories. ::shudder:: Do I get some kind of prize?@jen,I've been lurking around your blog a bit. I can relate to a lot of what you've written about there. I've been apart from my ex-husband for just over two years now. In many ways these things seem like a distant memory, like a lifetime ago and then something happens…a smell, a phrase, a sound, and it all rushes back. Thank you, Zoe.
LikeLike