Peeping

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: May 10, 2018

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Submitted: May 10, 2018

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Peeping

In the end it was a relief to be rid of him, wasn’t it. What had started off as love had become stifling and, eventually, personal strangulation.

You had adored him and he had worshipped you. How many years did you make it last? Five, wasn’t it. At first it was kind of fun to be put on a pedestal, to be ultra-protected. But then you started feeling locked in, not physically but by those ever-increasing questions.

Where are you going?

When will you be back?

Who did you see?

Who did you speak to?

He wanted you to give up your career, to stay at home and care for him. He said it was so you could spend as much time together as possible. It wasn’t until much later that you realized it was simply that he did not trust you around other people, especially other guys.

He adored you, so why on earth wouldn’t they?

For a while you were happy to have more time to spend on yourself and your interests. You’d meet up with friends in the afternoons, catch up on gossip, go out for a coffee, take a trip to the shops. Everything was fine until he phoned up and you were not there to answer. He had left work early, returned to an empty house and waited for your return.

He had not realized that you had been going out without him. He was hurt and he was angry. You suffered the pain and you witnessed the tears, and from then on the chains became tightened. You were not to leave the house without him. If you loved him, you would be happy to do just that, and to obey him, what ever he asked.

You were not to make yourself look pretty unless he was there to see you. Who knew who else might take a fancy to you? He became more and more possessive, and yet spent more and more time on his own projects. He had his freedom while you could almost see the prison bars.

It annoyed you that he kept his ability to come and go as he pleased, while he took yours away. Any desire you felt to escape the confines of your house was held in check by the fear of the resulting pain. If he found out, he would make you suffer. Any love you felt for him had long since been replaced by fear.

Where was he going? What was he doing? You did not really care.

And then one day you had enough. While he was out somewhere doing something, you got all his stuff and tossed it outside. You bolted the door from the inside; you closed your ears to his pleas, his thumps on the door for hours on end. When he eventually drove off, you cried yourself to sleep.

It took a long time to get used to being on your own, to thinking for yourself and making your own decisions. Slowly but surely you started meeting up with your friends again, and a couple of times invited them back to your house.

You never did know what he spent his spare time doing, did you? And you always feel like you are being watched.


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