I could taste it. Smell it. Feel it whirling through my fucking veins.
I lived it. Breathed it. Day in and day out. It was all I thought about. It kept me alive when all I wished for, begged for, was death.
There will be fire.
There will be blood.
My name is Hazel and this is my story of revenge.
"Babe, I'm home!" I announced while kicking the door shut behind me.
"Doc says he is as healthy as an ox. Ok, mayyyybe he didn't say 'he' since it's too early to tell, but I have a strong feeling about this one," I said and rubbed my slight protruding belly.
A smile spread across my face as I whispered, "I already have a name for you. But, shhhh...we'll surprise your daddy."
"Anyhow, he says we're good to go. Now, get your sexy ass down here so I can give my husband a proper hello!"
My head snapped forward from the blunt force of something unknown causing me to land on my knees. I rubbed the spot where I was hit and felt the wetness from the injury.
Stars floated across my line of vision.
I was lifted off the floor by my hair and screamed while flailing my arms, my legs, trying to make contact with my attacker to no avail.
I could have sworn I felt my baby move, a whispered caress. A show of shared fear and maybe even resolution. As if we both knew this wouldn't end well.
Then, my body hit the floor and I curled into a fetal position shielding the blows by the boot kicking at me repeatedly. One after another to the stomach. God.
The one thing I had sworn to protect with everything that I am.
Tears rolled out of my eyes, wetting my hair and dripping onto the floor where my cheek rested as I rolled trying like hell to save the life of my unborn.
Relentless blows. A cracking sound. A broken rib. Energy and life seeped from my battered shell.
I was dying. The life inside of me gone.
I'm pretty sure I felt it the moment it happened because my heart physically weakened.
Torment. Anguish. The overwhelming urge to rip hell open with my teeth. But, I was too weak to do any of it.
All I could muster was a glance up into those hate filled,
murderous eyes that held such love and lust only this morning as we made love and reveled in the news that we were pregnant with our first child.
It took me over a year to recover from that devastating loss. I was in a medically induced coma for a week and when I awoke, it took some time to remember the details of what had happened.
My husband thought I had amnesia.
What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Or so he thought.
Over a year of hate fueled my resolve. Over a year of planning. Training.
Vengeance was mine.
I was ready to strike. And, strike is exactly what I did.
The only sounds that could be heard were the pounding of pavement beneath our feet and heavy panting.
He was slowing down and making careless mistakes. Entering the alleyway, being his last.
"What do you want?" he cried.
I didn't respond because he would find out soon enough. I finally got him where I wanted him.
He tripped and landed on all fours. His knees splashing in the puddle beneath. "Please. I'll give you whatever you want. Don't hurt me."
I didn't allow him to get another word in before I shot him in the back of the head. His body falling lifeless to the pavement. A thick pool of dark red expanding from where he landed.
I knelt down and peered into his vacant eyes.
You would think it would've felt rewarding to take the life of someone who stole everything from you.
That hollow feeling in your chest doesn't miraculously fill with joy. I honestly didn't know what I expected to happen once I ended him.
I felt... Nothing.
I stood and walked away, leaving that sorry excuse for a human to the rats, not caring that once his body was found I would likely spend the rest of my days behind bars.
None of it mattered.
You see, I used to have it all. A great career, a husband, a home to fill with giggling children.
All of that is gone now.
To all of you women out there who have been the victim of a horrendous crime at the hamds of a man... I'm coming for them. I will fight them for you. I will shed their blood for you. Love, Hazel.