My Death Bed or My Mother-in-law

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a story about a woman pushed over the edge by her circumstances...

Submitted: December 06, 2014

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Submitted: December 06, 2014

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I am sitting on the side of the bathtub in my Mother-in-law’s guest bathroom watching the tub water slowly swirl down the drain. I do not want to live, and I do not want to die.  I want my husband back- so I can kill him.  He left two months ago without a word of explanation and I have been living with my Mother-in-law.  My Mother-in-law has a problem.  She does not know if my husband left because of me, or if he left because of her. I do not want to remain in this house, but my options are limited at the moment.  I have spent quite a few weeks dreaming up new ways to torture, maim, and disable men- just in case my husband suddenly reappears.  I cannot blame my Mother-in-law for the current situation.  Every Sunday she asks me if I am ready to come to church yet (to beg forgiveness for letting my husband leave) and every weekend I am certain I am coming down with a migraine and find myself incapacitated in my small twin bed in her guest room until Monday.  If I have to talk to God, I want an open honest conversation- not a rosary and bloody knees for forgetting that my husband had a predilection for other women.  I cannot prove this is why he left, but in the last four years of our marriage he had three affairs. However, the fact that he left (according to my Mother-in-law) is only half my fault.  The rest of the reasons are due to her.  She has spent evening after evening telling me he would still be here if he could have talked with her.

I despise my Mother-in-law.  When I had a miscarriage early in my marriage, she was devastated that she had lost a grandchild and she told all of her best friends that I was frail and in ill health and completely unfit for motherhood.  She never offered condolences to either my husband or myself.  She just kept repeating, “How could God have cursed me?”  (I do not think it is unreasonable to go to the electric chair for two crimes instead of one if I kill her as well as my husband.) I suffered from nightmares about all the possible horrible things that could have befallen my husband when I realized he had been missing for over twenty-four hours and was not coming back.  My Mother-in-law immediately hired a private detective to search for her missing son.  Three weeks later, the private detective found him at the Jersey Shore shacked up with some floozy and my huaband explained to the detective he had decided to take an extended vacation to “consider his path forward in life”.  My Mother-in-law paid the detective; thanked him kindly; and spent five hours explaining to me that it must not have been her son the detective had found and that she thought the private detective was taking advantage of an old woman and her money.

When my husband disappeared, my Mother-in-law thought I was too upset and distraught to stay on my own. She asked me not to stay in my small one-bedroom home by myself.  I agreed to move in with her for a while because it is difficult to support myself without my husband’s income. It has been two months since my husband left and my Mother-in-law and I have effectively and thoroughly vetted out the meaning of the phrase “on my last nerves”.  I could go back home, but then again, I do not have to buy groceries or maintain a car while I am here. I also do not want the entire population of our town to hear about “that woman who drove away her husband and would not care about her family” through the Canasta group my Mother-in-law plays with every Tuesday night.  I look at this as damage control.  I have been plotting my escape.  I have been quietly coming up with ways to fake my own death.  My mother-in-law would be allowed to wear black for a month or two (her best color).

My biggest challenge with enacting my own fake death is finding the appropriate methodology.  I have come up with three possibilities, all of which are a bit outrageous and none of which seem too plausible.

My first idea is to simply disappear.  If my husband can walk out and vanish then so can I.  I would have to plant some phony evidence around my Mother-in-law’s property.  A shoe by the back gate, no clothes missing except my pajamas, and an unmade bed would start the ball rolling.  The shoe could be a flip-flop that I put on to go investigate an imaginary noise at the back gate. I would have to make it look like the lock to the gate had been forced.  If I tried to drive my own car away, then my Mother-in-law would simply have my car reported to the local police.  If I did not make up my bed due to getting up in the night to investigate a noise at the back gate, then my Mother-in-law would be certain to claim I was abducted.  I have abandoned this idea and thought up a few more.

I have thought perhaps I could convince my Mother-in-law that I have died in a car crash.  I could simply drive my car off the road into a ditch and walk off and not come home.  If I could scatter some blood around on the seats, then it would appear I was injured and it might be plausible that I had been disoriented when I walked away.  On the other hand, with no body and no blood, my Mother-in-law would probably assume I had been abducted.  Then I would be in the awkward position of explaining my Mother-in-law had driven me to extreme measures. I most surely would wind up talking to a few solid doctors and a priest or two about how my poor, loving Mother-in-law was obviously not the problem and that, as an ungrateful daughter-in-law, I would need to work on my deranged state of mind. 

The third idea of how to fake my own death came to me one night while I was in the bathtub.  I could stage a drowning.  Lake Resu is just two hours away from my Mother-in-law’s house up in the woods along a dirt track road winding back into the trees.  I could row a small boat out into the middle of the lake and throw some clothes into the water, but I could not row the boat back to shore and make an accidental drowning plausible.  I would have to swim to shore.  I could not get back in my car and leave. Wet and cold, I would have to take off on foot through the woods.  To keep from possibly being seen by teenagers and fishermen at the lake, I would have to stage the drowning at night and the temperatures at night up near Lake Resu this time of year are close to freezing.  I also would probably become lost in the forest, although I could follow the road.  However, if I followed the road, then I would leave too visible of a trail. 

Just last week, my Mother-in-law said something peculiar.  She mentioned that if God had been kind her son would be dead.  Perhaps I should stage a suicide attempt instead of a false death. I am quickly falling under the pressure to continue as if nothing in this situation is wrong except for a missing husband who will probably return if we just keep ourselves together long enough. 

I am not crazy; I am desperate.  It is not wrong of me to state that men drive women to desperation.  Women can also drive other women to desperation. My Mother-in-law is proof of that. It strikes me that I am a coward.  I have been actively working to achieve peace in a situation I am better off without. Tonight, I took a bath without a razor and tried to determine the practicalities of where I will go and how I will move forward with re-establishing my life.  If my husband drops dead then my Mother-in-law will be happy. If my Mother-in-law drops dead, all will be right in my world. I am going to wait a week or two to see if I have any new ideas. Right now, I am thinking that planning a suicide might not be as healthy as planning a murder or two.


© Copyright 2018 Kimberly A McKenzie. All rights reserved.

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