Shattered
As he loudly slurped his soup, William complained, "You made it without salt as always. What do I have to do with you? Your head does not work. You have no brain. How can you forget a thing like this? It is always the same with you. You cannot do anything right. Mother of God. You are not a woman. You are a beast. You cannot even cook a decent meal for your man."
Lucia looked at her plate in silence. She never stood up for herself when he screamed at her. Feelings were constantly bottling up inside her. Her sense of inadequacy would tighten around her throat like a rope. Throughout the years, she learned to remain silent, numb her ears, tame her pride, and wander into her memories. Lucia remembered the person she was in her youth, always running in the wind, smiling to life, and making people laugh when anger hurt their stomachs. Her dark hair floated on her shoulders as her feet flew in the air, racing for freedom. Lucia dreamed of marrying God and devoting her life to religion. Everything changed when she met William. He seemed like the perfect match for her and once fueled her desire for independence, happiness, and a family of her own. She chose him over religion and marked her decision with a radical change in appearance.
She dyed her dark hair golden blonde at 21. She welcomed her entrance into a new life, the life of a married woman. The colour characterised her happiness and smiles, the ray of sun that came into her life, hopefully forever. She sat on the hairdresser’s chair with palpable excitement as she transformed into a happy Oriole, brightening up gardens in the heat of spring. As years passed, her golden sun transformed into a golden cage. Every time she went to the hairdresser, she remembered who she had become, and where she had to stand. She remembered the life that she chose and submitted to fully.
"Are you listening to me, or your head is so empty you cannot even listen anymore?" William started again. Lucia was torn from her thoughts and brought back into the kitchen. With the happiness of her youth in mind, she stood up, grabbed the plate she was eating from and threw it to the floor, where it shattered. She grabbed William's plate and smashed it on the floor, too. Food bits flew all around the kitchen, attaching themselves to the walls. Lucia reached for the cupboard where the other dishes were stored and grabbed them with anger, destroying all of them to the very last one. Her hands moved mechanically as bits of ceramic flew across the kitchen floor, filling the cracks between the tiles. The sound of porcelain swept over the room and drained the flood of anger she held inside. When the cupboard was empty, she faced William with a spirit of fierce rebellion. The breeze of freedom on her fingertips channelled all over the kitchen, growing like a wild plant from the broken pieces of ceramic on the floor.
She was running again in the wind, flying as her legs rushed on the street. She felt the immense surprise coming from William’s eyes, opened in disbelief. Lucia was equally surprised by her actions, though unapologetic. She never acted so impulsively, but it felt good. Exiting the kitchen, Lucia sat on the sofa and switched on the television as nothing happened. Her rebellious action had not freed her — she was convinced she could not live outside her abusive routine — but they had helped. William stood up from his chair and submissively cleaned the mess. He knew he needed to; he went too far. He watched Lucia from the kitchen. She had freed her anger, but to his eyes, she was no more than a trapped bird. As he collected the broken pieces in a plastic bag, William believed Lucia must know her place. He went to the living room, passing next to the sofa, where her head lay. Everything would return to normal. She stopped running long ago.