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Merle
"Who's that guy?" I hissed, anger taking over. I watched as the car turned around in the driveway.
"A friend from work, babe." She closed the door behind her and her her purse on the peg. I didn't know the guys name, my fists taking on a life of their own, hitting her. I watched myself hitting her, like I was someone else watching myself. Her hands clawing at my arms and face, pulling at my hair, trying to push me away from her.
When I finally pulled myself away and stopped hitting her I stumbled to the bathroom and started puking, hating myself and ashamed at what I did. I finally stopped puking and made my way back to the living room, looking for my Beth. I found her in the kitchen putting a bag of frozen peas on her eye.
"I ain't ever gonna put a hand on ya again," I said from the doorway, looking at the ground. I caught her nod from the corner of my eye and she sniffled.
I promised I'd never hit her again and I did it anyways. Fights brewed and we argued and I hit her again. Threw her on the floor and pinned her down, a white rage taking over me.
Beth
I used to get chills whenever we were together, the way he would look at me, the way he would smile. I used to get butterflies and everything. I loved him so much I could breathe. Despite it all I still love him. He promised he would never hit me again. Not after the first time. I saw the way he felt, I saw the shame in his eyes, see how he was thinking about his daddy and that he was turning into him. I heard him puking in the bathroom after the first time he hit me.
Now I feel like I hate him. I still love him, but I hate him too. The hate is starting to drown out any love I have left for him. I think I'm just as bad as he is, though. I hit him back when things get out of control like they do. We just keep hitting and hitting each other until the anger is gone and all that's left is pain and shame. I hate the way he keeps accusing me of cheating. He has always been the one and only for me. I wouldn't have married him at nineteen if it wasn't true.
Maybe I like the way that it hurts, the way that our fights and arguments make me feel something? Something is better than nothing, right? Our last two fights ended with us having sex on the couch and the kitchen table.
Merle
"Baby, please, come back. It wasn't you, baby, it was me. Maybe our relationship isn't as crazy as it seems," I called out, watching Beth open the front door and move to take a step out.
"We need to go our separate ways, Merle. We aren't good for each other. We're like a damn broken record."
"Don' leave. There won't be a next time, I swear. I'll quit drinkin'."
She turned around to look at me. "I don't want to leave, Merle. I love you, but I have to do what's right for me an' the baby."
Beth
"Who did that to ya, Bethy?" Daryl questioned as soon as I opened the front door.
"I need your help, Dar."
"Who did this? Was it my brotha?"
I slowly nodded. "I'm pregnant an' I have to leave. He only does it when he's drunk an' high."
"That ain't any fuckin' excuse, Beth. What'cha need?"
"A safe place to live till I can get my own place, I don't wanna intrude. I'll pay you rent. I jus' cain't go back to my parents."
"Ya ain't payin' me rent, ya an' that baby will live wit' me as long as ya want ta. Yer family, an' my piece o' shit brotha ain't comin' near either o' ya 'less he's clean."
"Thank ya, Daryl."
"Ain't nothin', let's pack yer shit."
We packed my stuff together and in the back of Daryl's truck before Merle came home. I went inside to wait for him to get home. If I leave without a word Merle Dixon won't stop till he finds me, He'll think something bad happened to me. Even after all the fights and the hitting I can't leave like that. He deserves more.
"Suga, ya home? What's li'l brotha doin' here? Merle called out and I heard the front door shut.
"I'm in the kitchen, Merle." I covered my face with my hands and took a deep breath. Merle walked in and kissed the top of my head. I looked up, "You sober?"
A look of confusion crossed his face, "Yeah, 'm sober."
"I'm movin' out, Merle. 'till you can choose me an' our family over drugs an' booze. The way we've been livin' ain't okay-"
"Sug-"
"No, Merle. Hear me out." He nodded and leaned against the wall, an expression of guilt covering his handsome face. "The way we're livin' is gonna end wit' one o' us dead- you wit' an overdose or me cause ya killed me in a drunken high rage. If ya can go the next 8-12 months sober an' prove ta me an' Daryl it's safe again, I'll come home." I didn't wait for a response. I didn't want one; I want Merle to think it through and choose me. I headed for the front door.
Merle
Her and the baby? My wife is pregnant and I've done nothing but drink, get high and lay hands on her. Might as well have a steel knife in my windpipe, I can't breathe. I'm as bad as my old man. I've said I'll get drinking and getting high, over and over. This time I mean it. I never wanted to be a daddy, never wanted to be like my old man.
"This is your last chance, Merle. Get clean and be a part o' our lives. If ya don't yer never gonna meet this baby. Don' be like your daddy."
I'm a stubborn, pig headed redneck asshole, but I know when I fuck up and I'll fix the shit I fucked up. I'll clean my act up and get my wife and kid back.
Beth
I had nothing to do with Merle for two months. Daryl took care of me, babying me, essentially and checked on Merle-Always telling me he's clean. He's making an effort. He's fighting for his family. Three months in, Daryl brought Merle to his place and let him see me and my belly. Daryl hovered, protecting me and his unborn niece or nephew from any potential harm.
By time I went into labor Merle was at Daryl's several times a week, still completely sober and holding down a steady job. I didn't move back in with him until our little girl turned three months old.
Merle
I never stooped so low again and hit her. I've never laid a finger on my baby girl.
"If I ever lay a finger on my girls ya best kill me, li'l brotha,"
"Don't ya worry, ya touch 'em I got a slow painful death for ya, arrow by fuckin' arrow."