We’ve been together awhile now. You always work so hard to take care of me. You’ve adjusted to my schedule, bent to my desires, learned new skills. Everything you do, everything you are, is just for me.
I’m going to take that away.
It’s an easy thing to sit you where I need you. A nice heavy chair will work, one I can bind your arms to. You’re too trusting with me. You wouldn’t think twice as I wrap the ropes around each limb, around your core, leaving you with no chance to escape.
Once that’s done I’ll take your primary hand and lay it flat, before taking the time to secure each finger individually. No making a fist, I need you still.
You’ll start to panic when I bring out my hammer.
It’s a heavy thing. Closer to a sledge, but perfect for one hand. You’ll see it in my tool closet a year later and begin to sob.
Do you understand yet what I have planned?
Would you start to beg using your own usefulness as leverage?
“Please, how would I take you to work?”
“I wont be able to clean as well.”
“I’ll be so much slower tending to you.”
“How will I bake a cake for so and so’s birthday?”
Or would there just be tears and quiet acceptance? There are a million ways I could make you afraid without going to these lengths.
I’ll measure the arc of the first strike. You’ll watch the hammer swing up in terrified fascination.
The sound of the first blow, the crunch of bones, will be lost under your screaming.
I’ll finish the job quickly. There’s no reason to draw this out.
Now what are you going to do? Your hand will take months to heal properly, and even longer until it’s back at full strength
Until it does I’ll be there.
How would you feel without your daily routine? No chores to manage, no home to care for. In fact you’re on doctor’s orders to rest.
How would you feel when you’re unable to accomplish the things you’ve decided make you useful?
How would you feel when I kept you anyway?
I’ll be there cutting up your food and helping you eat. I’ll be there to help you remember your medicines. I’ll keep up with the chores. I’ll bathe you and help you dress.
How would you feel when I pull you into my lap, so careful of what I’ve done to you, to tell you you’re perfect?
You’re cherished and loved, without any thought to how useful you might be.
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