Stay With Me

Under a damp, filthy, and torn towel, Anna lays on the kitchen floor. Her legs are curled while her arms embrace her shivering body. The tune of Tommy Dorsey’s “I’ll Never Smile Again” is audible through her throat. She is trying to hum herself to sleep. Betty's skin is pale and dry. Her hair is long, untamed, and has not been washed in sometime. Her nails are long, dirty, and broken. But she cannot go one day without His favorite lipstick on her chap, cracked lips.

Tired of waiting for sleep to catch up to her, she slowly arises from the tiled floor and staggers into her bedroom. There she sees her son, lying in his crib. She bends over the gate and strokes his hair. Her hand is cold and trembling.
Why did he leave us like this?
When will he be back?
Will he ever be back?

As Betty's eyes begin to water, she hears a knock on the front door.
“Betty! Baby, it’s me! I'm back honey. Let me in, it’s freezing out here”, shouted Charles through the door.
Not again, I won’t let him do this again.
I have to end this.
I can’t take this anymore.

Betty grabs a frying pan off the stove top and quickly makes her way toward the front door. She grips the handle tightly as she unlocks it. The door opens and Charles walks in. Before he can say a word, she drives the pan into his forehead. Charles collapses. Betty looks out the door.
Not yet. I can’t let him do this to anyone else.

Betty shuts the door, grabs Charles by his feet, and begins to drag him. A trail of blood follows.
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Charles awakes with a beating pain from his head. He investigates with his hand and feels a large bump with a Band-Aid on it. He also notices that he is in the bathroom and someone is in the shower. He places his hand on the ground for support while he attempts to stand. He feels water. Charles looks down and sees water all over the bathroom floor. He turns his head back to the shower and discovers the water is spilling over the tub.
“Betty is that you in there? What happened?  What the hell is going on?” asked Charles.

The shower stops. Betty pulls the curtain aside and smiles at Charles. Naked, wet, and shivering she stares at him. “Betty, it's freezing, put on a towel and tell me why my head is bleeding.” Charles pleaded. After a brief pause, Betty begins to cry. “You left me Charlie. You forgot about me. Like some toy that you grew out of. Why would you do that!?” she yelled.
“I didn't leave you Anna, I was drafted. It’s not like I had a choice to say.” He replied.
“You chose your friends over me. You didn’t even care that I was pregnant.” She said. “Of course I cared, Jesus Anna, what happened while I was gone? What happened to this place? It’s a dump! What happened to you? What happened to Howie?”

“Howie”, Anna immediately stops sobbing. “You care more about that little piece of shit than your own wife? You put that bastard inside me. You left and made me feed and clean it. You convinced me to name it after your pathetic loser of a father…and then you abandoned him.”Anna extends her arm and points toward to the room across the hall. A drop of water rolls off her cold finger. “He’s in the bedroom, lying in his crib. He cried for you every single night.”

Charles exits the bathroom and steps into his old bedroom. The clothes on the bed and the suit case he forgot on his desk chair are still in the same place the night he left for basic training.

Everything looks just like I left it.

Charles spots the crib next to his side of the bed. It’s white with a blue and grey quilt and a Seven Dwarfs mobile spinning over it. He cautiously walks towards the crib. He has never seen his son before.

It’s been two years since I’ve been gone. He’s probably so big

As he gets close, a fowl stench raids his nose.

Jesus Anna, you could at least wipe his ass every now and then.

Charles looks into the crib and sees Howie. My poor son. His ribs are visible and his lips are severely chap. Dried spit or vomit or both are stained into a stream escaping his small mouth. His skin is blue and his eyes are glossed over. His diaper and the lower half of the quilt are covered in feces. There is a bottle of rotten milk near his feet. And there are maggots in a half-eaten sandwich above his head. He is dead.

Oh Howie. Charles tries to keep from crying. His lip quivers. His hands begin to shake and sweat.

 I’m so sorry. He reaches out to caress the child’s head but as he strokes Howie’s hair out of his face, Charles’ fingers take some skin along with it.

God fucking dammit! Anna! You killed my son!

Charles storms back into the bathroom to confront the woman who murdered his son, but she is gone. As he looks around he sees a trail of water that leads toward the kitchen. He follows it. His heart rate is beating as fast as it was on Normandy. His focus is as sharp as when he breached the Axis bunkers and burned them alive with his flamethrower team. His rage is as intense as when his best friend was struck down in Berlin by a German sniper.

Charles arrives at the kitchen to find Anna, still naked and wet, setting the dinner table.

“Oh there you are, dear. Come sit down. I’ll get you a beer”, Anna said calmly.

“Anna, you killed Howie. You’re a murderer!”

“No”, Anna replied sharply, “YOU killed him! YOU let him here to die. But, I’m willing to forgive you and give us another chance. So come sit, and let us discuss our relationship. I need to rebuild my trust in you”.

She’s lost it. She’s fucking lost it.

“Forgive? Discuss? Trust? Betty, have you gone mad? I left to fight a war and you let our son die. I’m going to the station. You’re done, Betty. You’re never going to see me, Howie, or anyone again. I hope they don’t even give you the death penalty. I want you to suffer in solitary with only your thoughts and regrets. And after your soul leaves that disgusting body, I hope you become Satan’s prize possession you piece of shit”

Charles, with tears streaming down his face, heads toward the front door. Betty panics. “You’re leaving me again? No, I won’t let you”. She grabs a knife off the table and runs to Charles. Her eyes widen and her breathe quickens. She raises the knife over her head. Charles hears her charging at him and rapidly turns around to confront her. He sees the knife and throws his arms up to block the strike. Betty furiously drives the blade through Charles’ arms slicing them both. Charles backs off in total shock. “Betty stop!” he yells as he looks down at the wounds on his arms. Without hesitation, Betty lunges at Charles again, this driving her knife into the center of his chest.

Betty, shaking violently, releases her grip from the weapon and steps back. Charles is still. He then looks down at the knife. Blood is slowly exiting the wound. “Bett-gawwk”, he tries to speak but chokes on the blood in his throat. He grabs the handle to attempt to pull it out. Betty runs at him, pushes it even deeper, and forces Charles into the door.

Betty gets up on her toes and leans into Charles’ ear. She whispers, “You’re not going anywhere, not again. You had your chance to leave. Stay with me”