Fantasy-Fairy wallpaper background

A demented pixie fabricated with transparent horns and a Glasgow grin to match. He’d been the one to drag that condescending smile ear to ear, the one to reshape the landscape of her pretty face so that she, now a freak-show, would be recognized as such by the world. He’d taken the diplomatic route in all instances previous, if anything his behavior had been exemplary.

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When the relationship took a dangerous turn for the worse, he’d kept his hands and insults to himself. The same could not be said for that horrible woman who thwarted his best attempts to conduct a rational conversation. They’d sought conventional counseling, separated, reunited under more favorable circumstances. In the end he’d gotten a restraining order, which had been taken as something of a joke and thus never as conscientiously enforced as his sanity and physical well-being necessitated.

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She had hit him twice with her car, on the 2nd occasion at a sufficient speed to break two of his ribs and the arm he’d used as a makeshift shield. After their final breakup he’d never reentered the dating world despite admonitions from friends. He dared not to utter even a single syllable to any woman that was not of his own blood lest she turn out just as insidious or become the victim of a jealousy that required no provocation beyond delusion. She sold his prized guitar collection out of sheer malice, destroyed his property, drugged him on numerous occasions, accused him falsely of rape, which resulted in a loss of employment. She had taken his soul apart brick by brick, unraveled him so totally that he had lost all sense of reality, of himself. No dating was out of the question, he was in no condition and his baggage came with a vendetta and a will all its own.

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There was no justice for a beautiful, manipulative woman, hell even he had forgiven her more times then he dared now to recall. When she poisoned his German Shepard, all the crimes he’d stoically endured, all the slights forgiven and forgotten in light of more atrocious crimes came crawling up from his bowels, like poisonous black bile. There she’d stood laughing, proud of her cruelty and there he’d stood unhinged, incoherent, blinded by rage, grief, and a desperation that made him feel physically ill. He’d grabbed a kitchen knife without consideration, for in all those years that he’d entertained retaliation, he’d never actually went so far as to plan it. In that instant, however, he knew what was to be done and all other thoughts, like those of consequence or morality fled. He hadn’t continued to slice away at her face, had never intended to kill her only to imprint upon her, that sick murderous smile. He was the one arrested, labeled insane and sent to live in Anwar Heights, while she became the victim, a symbol for abused women everywhere. He didn’t care though, he was untouchable behind these walls, free, in a non-world.

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(no idea what compelled me to write this but its my first completed short story haha The picture would be before the grin lol)

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16 thoughts on “500 Word Story “The Grin”

  1. When you get in a relationship with some people, you’re just glad to get out. With others, you’re glad to get out with your life.
    My mother’s sister was in a very abusive relationship for 25 years before she took off with the cousin who was my age and my little cousin. The others were all grown. My aunt and my two cousins lived with us for a while.
    I know that my uncle messed with his daughters, and I have very strong suspicions that he messed with me when my parents were living in New York. I was too young to have been able to remember details (between ages 2 and 3) but I have had some horrific flashbacks. He was a very disturbed man.

    1. Thankfully this is fictional but I have also been abused by my father who is a psychopath and in fact mental illness runs in my family so I have seen some things I would very much like to unsee. I don’t not have a relationship with my dad its too dangerous and I will never ever tell him I have a child. I am so sorry to hear what happened to you and I hope that he is no longer in your life, I wish he was in fucking jail

      1. Very true…it is also often the case, completely independent of gender, that the person who finally snaps is the one who was systematically abused…these things are very complex. Well done on shining a light on that complexity! 🙂

  2. whew ok kinda scary…his consolation is that he is safe now…and def one where you are reminded to look a little more closely at the story behind the story…ha…cool short…

  3. An interesting twist on the “usual” story of abuse. And, there are abused men; a male friend had been sexually abused by his mother (with his father’s okay). Although he would say he was able to deal with it as an adult, but he definitely had set his own comfort zone. He found it hard to stay in a relationship, and he never really learned how to be in a long term relationship. (And it didn’t help that his ex-wife had cheated on him during most of the marriage.
    Our paths had crossed for a time, and then I lost touch with where he was, and what he was doing. Eventually, I heard he’d moved to another city, and that he was dead. I never asked, but I suspect suicide.
    It’s good to point out that while woman make up the majority of the abused, it can happen to men. And, I suspect men are less likely to admit to abuse than women — at least men of my generation.

    1. I am so sorry about your friend that absolutely awful. I suspect you are right and from what research I have seen men do have a harder time speaking about abuse, especially sexual abuse. Men are sometimes abused by their wives and that is something exceedingly hard for them to admit and even if they do admit it, the police rarely take it seriously, if anything they are probably further emasculated when asking for help

      1. Very true. And an ER is less likely to further explore the source a man’s injuries of the “typical” abuse sort, even with repeated visits.

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