I want that fucking money located! Mr. Green, make her confess it.’ My husband will then look at me. ‘You stole it, you bitch. I order you to tell...me the bank, the account number, everything.’ In anger, he will struggle to remember my secret terse code that should make me submit to his orders once uttered. ‘Feline fingers furiously fuck fowls,’ my husband will say again and again as if it would affect me, as if it were a programmed code that could be told to me. I will laugh and giggle lost. As she comes down the stairs, she says, “I had the kids all week. You get them today while I go shopping with Sylvia and then tonight, we have girl’s night out.” I can tell she’s pissed, so I just nod and let her go, hoping the time away will cool her down. I don’t see her for the entire day and I go upstairs and fall asleep around 1 am. I am sound asleep for about an hour, but then start to wake up as I feel my hands go above my head and something tightens around my wrists. When I wake up. More

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