It lives inside my being...inside my subconscious. As I sit in a gloomy

corner of my bedroom ( my most despised enclosure), thoughts are

thickly rampant with grisly scenarios of retribution. Perhaps, a baseball

bat might do him in. Or, I imagine my husband to be a scrawled upon

piece of bloodied paper (from my paper cut, perhaps). I would simply

crush the ignoble mass of processed wood fibers into a tight ball, and

pitch it mindlessly across the floor. Certainly, I would dispose of this 

refuse later, as I tidied up the room.  Oh God, how could I have allowed

 my thoughts to have sunk to this level? As tears stream from my weary

eyes, I pray for the superhuman fortitude to bear yet another abusive

session with this "monster." The name-calling, the slaps, the pinches,

each and every insidious "chipping away" at my psyche...proves to result

in a more befuddled plan to escape this madness. I know there are

other victims out there!  But, what is this steely resolve...this incredibly

omnipotent force...which beckons me(and others like myself) to sacrific

themselves to some ubiquitous ideology of female martyrdom?

          Whatever "higher purpose" commands me to appear an ideal wife

and mother, I feel another growing, yet subtle "entity," infecting my spirit.

It cries out to me...no, it screams to me, in the very desolation of my

excruciating pain!