The Bird Was Witness.

 

ALERT! This flash does contain two swear words, I do not wish to offend therefore am letting you know before you read. This is a refreshed  #flash from Nov 2016.

Photograph by permission of Derrick J knight. Thank you once more.

blackbird-photo-by-httpsderrickjknight.com_.jpg.jpeg

bird sat high on top of a telegraph pole, its black shape stark against the sky, I watched it through the steam on the window. With my palm flat against the glass, I cleared a better view; while my novel was clenched snug under my armpit. Sitting in the window seat reading I could zone out the sounds of the room and breathe easy.

Then it started… “Ange, Ange, come here now! come to me bitch”. I looked at the bird looking back at me and placed my book on the windowsill. The card game was getting rowdy, ”Angie” he shouted, warily I approached, “What Tom, what do you want? “ He grabbed my waist and tugged me into his lap, laughing, that sneery false laugh I grew to hate. Fear ran up my neck as he made a show of me in front of his mates.

He looked at them and pinched my chin as he forced my head to face them. Tom wrenched my hand between my shoulder blades. “Here boys, have you ever seen such a miserable cow… eh eh?” his grasp was cruel, his breath thick with stale booze and cigarettes. I felt the spray from his mouth warm as he spoke against my ear. Tom released my arm and pretended to tickle, but he dug and prodded with force, my cheeks flushed and prickles ran up my spine. My legs jerked as he stabbed his fingers deep between my ribs. The table caught by my ankle shifted, cards scattered as it righted itself with a thump. I struggled, kicking my denim clad legs in retaliation his fingers jab jabbing painfully; as his temper deteriorated.

The mood instantly changed, Stan leapt up threw his hand on the table, he kicked a spent chubby and took the Iou’s in his calloused hands and tore them; throwing the pieces like confetti in the air. “Fuck this you knob”, he booted the table over…”I’m off” he shouted. Pictures rattled as he banged the door. Mark and Des were worse for wear, swaying, they glanced from one to the other and back, both stumbled to the door in pursuit.

One swift movement had me flat on the floor with a swaying Tom above me. “You fuckin bitch, you just had to, didn’t you? Each word was punctuated with a kick and a gob from his mouth. The first one caught the bone of my hip the second connected with my thigh as I struggled lobster like across the carpet. A flurry of pokes, punches and kicks came thick and fast, he crushed my lips into my teeth with a direct punch. Stubbies bounced and rolled about like Otters at play, I spat two teeth onto the carpet which got his attention, it gave me a chance to swallow some air.

From the corner of my eye, I caught sight of the bird, me looking at it, it looking at me. Ashamed at this spectacle being seen. Me, a weak victim, small and helpless. Somehow the thought made me gather myself. I grabbed a bottle and scrambled to my feet. Holding the neck with cramped fingers I drew my arm out to the side. I remember screaming “No” He lunged forward teeth barred.  I screwed my eyes tight and swinging right to left the bottle connected. Phlegm hit full in my face and mingled with the tears and blood that dripped from my jaw. As if I was a character in a novel,  in slow motion the bottle cracked him below his left ear and flipped from my grasp. His eyes bulged, snot flew from his nose as he fell back. Stretching myself forward fingers splayed I tried to grab him before he fell, but only caught air. His head thudded against the leg of the upturned table and he dropped. Blood puddled behind his head and a lone trickle dribbled from the side of his gaping mouth.

Unable to look, I turned my head to face the window. I could see him, the bird, looking at me. He seemed to bob his head like a gentleman does when he catches your eye in acknowledgement. He ruffled his feathers and continued his pose.

 I felt the vibration of feet through the floor when I dialled 999. “Police and ambulance, I can’t hear you… I think he is dead, we are at 42 Granby street, come quick *hiccough* please”. Still holding the phone the door flew from its hinges the room filled with uniforms and bodies. A policeman shook me, grabbed the phone and spoke into it. My ears and head were ringing but I could only see angry faces as lips moved silently and Tom lay still, and only the bird was witness.

 

What do you think, was she in the wrong ?  please leave any comments as they are my wages for writing and each one is valued and replied to swiftly. Have a great week.

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56 thoughts on “The Bird Was Witness.

  1. You write so beautifully Ellen, very gripping, and I’m intrigued to know what happens next.

    She was defending herself, murder wasn’t her intention otherwise she wouldn’t of dialed 911 so quickly.

    I love the bird being a witness, I love how she keep making reference to it watching the entire scene but unable to prove to be useful in this situation.
    She still stands a case as she is bruised and bloodied herself so she can confidently say it was self defense.
    I hope Tom’s dead for I already hate his guts.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. In the chaos of the paramedics and police milling about pronouncing Tom still alive, I clearly heard the magpie say “Run for it.”
    Grabbing my purse, I slipped by the “sympathy” team — women cops send to deal with the wife in domestic violence situations, and out the door to freedom. The magpie flew a feet above and before me, crackling directions in a whispery voice.
    I never stopped, then, to wonder if I had lost it. I firmly believed I had a spirit bird guiding me to safety.
    Then take it from there?
    Great chain story with luscious possibilities.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. You shouldn’t have called the police immediately, just have waited a little to “recover” from the shock, then you would be more sure that he dies, that wouldn’t be a big loss and on top it was legal defence ! 🙂

    Liked by 3 people

  4. I hope he gets up, tries to strangle her just as the police arrive and they give him a good pasting for ‘resisting arrest’ then he dies of a blood clot in his leg caused by him bashing it while kicking her (so it won’t be her fault). Then she has him cremated and throws his ashes in a landfill site. :0)

    Liked by 2 people

  5. Tom groans and tries to raise his head. His eyes, red and angry slowly fix on mine.
    “You bitch,” he mutters between clenched teeth and lunges awkwardly.
    A firm hand catches his wrists, the police officer’s nostrils clench as he gets a whiff of Tom’s breath, and with a hostile ring in his voice says, “Easy now.”
    I can’t take my eyes off Tom and the hatred in his twisted face. I almost can’t feel the police officer as she runs her fingers lightly over the bruises blossoming on my ribs, my cheek bone. Somehow, it doesn’t seem to matter what happens next. It’s all broken anyway.

    Great idea, Ellen! I’ll try to catch up on this regularly if my brain can cope with the organization 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

  6. A Paramedic shook Tom and announced there was still a pulse. Blood was still dripping from the wound in his head. They quickly wrapped his head and placed him in recovery position. I was ignored as they tended to Tom’s injured body.
    Eventually a policeman approached me and said,” Rugged card game eh?” I think it was his attempt to lighten the moment and make me feel less stressed than I was. He then asked me what had happened and I told him all I remembered. The other guts had at some point left and it was all confusing as so much had happened so quickly.
    A paramedic was checking me over and when I winced as his fingers probed my rib cage he suggested I go in the ambulance with Tom and get checked out as I might have a cracked rib.
    I was too terrified to argue. Tom was still unconscious. I dreaded his reaction when he woke up…..

    If you are interested Ellen in what I am doing here is link to the site….we are into Week 18 of our writing fun, each week is a separate tale.

    https://natterat60.com/t/60s-bedtime-story-no-18-please-read-and-join-in-by-adding-your-thoughts-to-the-story/1823/22

    Like

    • I hadn’t expected that. Thank you for your contribution, that must be the longest comment ever… and very interesting too. I went to your link and read the story at the dentist, that is a game i played with my children as they grew up, the chain story. It can be great fun and It seems yours is too. Thank you for the comment story and link.😊

      Liked by 2 people

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