There she lay, unconscious. Her breath faint and her pulse calm. The collected, recurrent beeps of the heart monitor were my only assurance that she lived. I mean the heart monitor wouldn't be beeping right now, if she hadnt warned me that she wanted to live through this story馃槀.
I looked at Thinkonce from outside, at the calmness within the room. My arms were folded as I watched over her being with rapt attention. She was rarely like this. The Thinkonce I lived with was a monster, figuratively. And I was sure she wanted me dead, more often than not, literally.
'Don't take your eyes off her', the doctor told me before he left. I was certain to heed to his advice. I never intended for any of this to happen. Normally, I was the one in the bed whenever Thinkonce turned on me for whatever reason pleased her. But yesterday, she believed it was okay to sell my car; a move I wouldn't have a problem with if she'd just discussed it with me like regular couples did. An argument ensued, like she likes to do. She attacked me, like she likes to do. She slipped and fell this time, like my village people had decided enough was enough.
The phone in my hand rang. Mother called to ask about her favourite daughter in-law. "She's such a sweet little person" she would say. She didn't know lol.
"Hello mother?"
'Beeeeeeeeeeeeeep' the heart monitor went, as I turned my back to pick up the phone. Turning back around, Thinkonce was gone from atop the hospital bed.
