Yes, in ancient history, the poet Hesiod was one of the first figures to discuss love as a powerful force capable of emerging from Chaos itself and affecting both gods and mortals. Some suggest that hate is its twin sentiment, but I digress. Its sister is anger — an emotion equally intense and explosive.

My parents made those emotions clear to me during my childhood. Mother’s selflessness shielded me from the monsters inside my home. Father’s rage showed me hell began right here.

I took one last glance at Richard’s body and experienced satisfaction with my accomplishment. But his place looked like a disaster zone. There were clothes, shoes, bottles, tissues, needles for steroids strewn across the floor, and yet his bathroom was immaculate.

I saw my appearance in the mirror. My hair was a mess; my face displayed the marks of Steele’s violence.

Perfect. That’s exactly what I needed.

Only one thing had gone sideways. My pants had a few stains, but my shirt had a large amount of red on it. Glad I brought a spare.  

The new sweatshirt, though too clean, matched my outfit. In the living room, I swiped my fingers into the puddle of blood below Rick’s hands. I smudged it with the soft fabric. There, I now had a gray canvas with meticulous brushstrokes.

Night had fallen when I stepped outdoor. The warm glow of every house mocked the darkness outside. Each lit window framed lives too busy to notice what had happened right under their noses.

My car, still at the curb, waited for me. When I opened the door and took the driver’s seat, the lowlife’s stench filled my nose.

That scumbag… I wish I’d made Richard clean everything before I killed him. And to think he talked shit about Joanne? Disgusting prick.

The engine purred as I drove through the snowy streets. Christmas lights sparkled and danced as I hummed Jingle Bell Rock. I allowed myself to feel a little bubbly and excited. With the windows down, I let the smell of roasted turkey, mashed potatoes, and cookies that permeated the outside air replace the pungent scent of iron that came from my clothes. It was a beautiful evening.

I stopped the car two blocks from my destination and checked myself in the rearview mirror. Anticipation sizzled through my skin, so intense that the hair on my face stood on end.

My cheeks was a little red from Richard’s slapping, so I pinched them to intensify the effect and messed up my hair. Satisfied with my reflection, I took a deep breath, forced tears into my eyes, turned the key in the ignition, and stepped on the gas.

The wheels spun, and the brakes screeched as I made a cinematic stop in their driveway. If there were any witnesses, they’d see the perfect impression of a woman in total distress. 

I shoved the car door open and ran to the porch. My rapid breathing sounded like I had run a marathon.  I squeezed the doorbell frantically.

Christmas carols were playing inside the house. Before someone came to the door, I detected a hushed conversation and could hear someone crying. 

The door opened a few inches, casting a thin line of light across the floor. Daniel’s face appeared in the crack. He didn’t seem ready for a celebration. His T-shirt, an ugly shade of gray, was a sad memory of the vivid black it used to be.

“Who the hell—Oh, you.” He said curtly.

“H-hi, Daniel. Is Mia home?”

“She’s kinda busy at the moment. It’s Christmas,” he snarled.

“Tess?” I heard Mia behind him.

The man blocked my view into the house.

“Ms. Graham was just passing by, babe, and is about to leave.” He said with a dare in his voice.

“Daniel, move away from the door, please.” Her words were clipped with impatience. 

“Or what?”

Mrs. Jones pushed him aside, opened the door wider, and reached out to me. Each time I saw this woman, she looked more beautiful, and it took my breath away. 

She wore a dark blue skirt, a caramel long-sleeved turtleneck, and a matching fur coat. The golden accessories gave her a fashion model aura, but something about her watery green eyes struck me as off.

“Oh my God, Tess. What happened?”

“He found me, Mia. He found me.” I sobbed. “H-he kidnapped me, and… I was able to escaped. God, I was so scared. You were the only person I thought to run to!”

Mia checked me over and gasped at seeing the amount of red taint on my clothes. Not saying a word, she took me by the hand and led me to the kitchen. 

She handed me a glass of water and pulled a chair near the stove, telling me to sit.

“Did he follow you?” Mia whispered.

I shook my head, tears pouring down my cheeks.

“Oh dear. Are you hurt? Is this… all yours?” Her eyes locked on mine, and she jerked her chin toward the blood on my clothes.

I answered a painful “Not all of it,” I sobbed harder. Mrs. Jones leaned over and threw her arms around me. Her sweet perfume filled my nostrils. 

My lifetime experience had prepared me for many things, but not for these new emotion that arose in my flawless plan of life. Mia’s touch was like a warm bubble bath after a tough day at work. Butterflies swarmed in my stomach, and my heart skipped a beat.

Seconds later, she got up and walked in a small circle as she recited an angry monologue.

“That’s good. I bet that monster was a narcissist. They are all the same and won’t stop before sucking every ounce of your blood.”

Her jade gaze glistened. I almost stepped out of character.

“Mia. What’s wrong?” I pleaded.

Before she could answer, Mr. Jones walked into the room.

“Look, I don’t wanna be a bother, but it’s getting late, Mia.”

The poor woman squeezed her eyes to expel tears, let out a shaky breath, and turned to him.

“Daniel, you can’t understand this situation.”

“Yeah, the bad guy did something horrible, I get it. I mean no disrespect but go to the cops, Ms. Graham. And we should head to my mom’s; she’s been waiting for an hour.”

Mia’s body trembled. Her beautiful, slim hand ran over her face to calm herself down.

“Unbelievable. A friend comes to us for help, and you just want to ignore it and leave her alone?” she hissed.

“There you go, twisting my words again. Jesus. All I’m saying is we should allow the right people to handle the situation.”

His tone sounded condescending. The woman’s hands balled into a fist, and her body shook. My feelings boiled when I grasped the tension between them.

“Fine, Daniel. I’ll accompany Tessa to the door. Bring Josh down so we can get going.”

Mr. Jones clicked his tongue and scratched his head.

“You know he won’t listen to me; why are you asking me to do that?”

“Tell him he’ll be able to see Ms. Graham before she leaves.”

He left the room mumbling.

“I’m sorry, Tess.” She puffed. “I ran myself ragged today. He didn’t move a muscle and continued to complain about everything. It drove me to my limit; I have no strength to fight anymore.”

Mia helped me up and guided me to the front door. Her dragging feet begged me not to rush, so I slowed—until the air itself grew heavy between us. She searched for her husband as she muttered her worries to me.

“You’ve been through a lot, I know, but…”

“It’s ok, go on,” I reassured her as we walked past the stairs.

“Daniel is making me doubt myself more. He told me I took things out of context and I don’t comprehend what he says. This is getting worse, he-”

She stopped, bit her nails, and let her tears roll.

“We argued before you got here. It became heated, and Josh intervened to protect me. Daniel yelled at him, and he hit my baby, Tessa.”

“This was not the education I wanted for him. The poor boy was so disoriented that he ran up to his room, holding his face. We kept fighting, and he said this was all my fault. How come?”

The sound of footsteps echoed above us. She caressed my cheek with the tip of her finger.

“I’m sorry about what happened to you today, my dear. When I saw you at the door, I was sure you’d let him have it because you’re strong, you wouldn’t go down without a fight.” She nodded at the red spots on my shirt. “I wish I had what it takes to be like you.”

A turmoil of emotions revolved inside me. Thoughts flooded my mind; my heart hammered harder than the drums on “The Kill” by Thirty Seconds to Mars.

“Mrs. Graham! Merry Christmas!”

Our eyes turned to the bottom of the stairs. My little man was ready to be the star on a magazine’s cover with his nice jeans, long-sleeved white shirt, and red sneakers. His green eyes contrasted with the pink, runny nose. He had been crying.

“Merry Christmas to you, too, Josh. You look sharp!” My lips forced a smile.

“Thanks! Are you spending the night with us?” He wrapped his arms around Mrs. Jones’ legs.

Mr. Jones walked up behind him and past his wife. He stood between us.

“No, she’s not. Ms. Graham spent the entire semester here, glued to your mom. What would Grandma and Grandpa think if she showed up for a family get-together, right, buddy?

The smile on the kid’s lips vanished, replaced by a shadow of shame. Mia’s face reddened, her frown intensified, and she looked down. I could tell this wasn’t the first time she’d heard those words.

“Great, we all agree on that. I guess we are good to go.” He turned to me. “Uh, thank you for stopping by, Tessa. I wish you luck with your… issue.”

He extended his arm to open the door; I interrupted him midway. 

“What now?” He sighed, annoyed.

“Mia.”

Our eyes met.

“You don’t have to be like me. Being yourself is not wrong. It’s perfect. Let me do the brave things for you, too.”

“Ok, this has gone too far. Hitting on my wife right in front of me? I won’t-”

Daniel didn’t finish his disgusting sentence. I shoved my knife into his neck, a clean stab to the jugular vein. His hand tried to stop the blood as it gushed through his fingers. He collapsed to the floor.  Yes, my forte was not to improvise, but that Christmas gift would come in handy. 

Editor: Lucy Cafiero