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"The Hardening (short story)"

With every kiss, every touch, every smile she was building a wall around my fragile ego. The support that she gave me was a foundation for my growing confidence and every kind word she spoke cemented the growing belief that I was going to make it.

I wasn't aware of it until long after we had moved in together, but she was a cowboy builder. The structure had weaknesses, ones that she was well aware of. When the time came it was easy for her. She simply pulled away the support she had given me, and watched as the wall came crashing down, leaving me open to be enslaved by her.

She had changed so much since our early days together in the flat. We used to sit up all night talking to each other, sharing our dreams. When she told me that my stories were great, that it would only be a matter of time before I was signing huge deals, I believed her. She made me believe in myself, and I went about my writing with a greater enthusiasm. She helped me get into shape, encouraging me to visit the gym with her, allowing me to believe that my body wasn’t something that I should be ashamed of, despite my scars. For the first time in my life, she allowed me to be exactly who I wanted to be, for the first time in my life I was happy.

When you start to believe that your life couldn’t get any better, it rarely does, and soon enough that wall started to crumble around me. The kind words stopped, replaced by harsh criticism of my every move. Perhaps some of it was true, after all, she was the sole earner in the house. Perhaps it wasn’t fair that I sat at home all day writing, whilst she was spending all of her spare time on paperwork. Perhaps I was wasting my time, perhaps I would never make it, perhaps I should have got a proper job.

I started to do more around the house, keep the place more tidy, prepare a meal ready for when she got home, and I even started applying for so called proper jobs, but the more I tried to do, the worse it seemed to get. Whenever I tidied I’d always missed a bit, or misplaced something important. Whenever I cooked something was either overcooked or undercooked. This I could handle, but it was the sneers every time the post arrived that really got to me. Her suggestions that it would either be a reply from a disinterested agent or a reply from an unsuccessful interview were all the more painful because they were true.

These letters were the catalyst for her to step it up to the next level. She knew how down the rejection letters used to get me, even when I had her support. Now that I had the added disappointment of my unsuccessful job search to this I started to believe everything that she said. This made me go to interviews accepting defeat before they even started, and I put my pen down altogether and stopped writing.

People often ask me why I didn’t leave earlier, when I felt this low. Well it was down to the memories of the good times. I thought that it was just a phase in our relationship, that things would go back to how they were. I even believed that it was all my fault and I wanted to try to fix it. Before it turned bad I always used to ask her what she saw in me. She always said that there was something about me, a hidden greatness that she felt she could unleash. That’s an awfully funny way of saying mug, but that’s what she meant. I was the classic empty vessel, she knew she could fill me with whatever she wanted, and then drink me dry when she needed the boost.

As I said earlier, when you don’t think things can get any better, they rarely do, however, when you feel that things cannot get any worse, they can. Every time I heard the key in the front door I would tremble, ready for another verbal assault. Rather than being little digs about my lack of achievement, they became screamed insults regarding my absolute worthlessness as a human being. With each word she grew taller as I shrunk into the shadows. Slammed doors and broken crockery were a regular sound from our once happy home, and I just went to fetch the dustpan, unaware that none of it was my fault.


It didn’t last too long like this though. When a meal I had spent much of the afternoon on crashed to the floor after narrowly missing my head it happened, the final piece of her cruel construction crumbled. My eyes were suddenly opened to the things she had done to me, using me as a pawn in her twisted little game of power. She was like a vampire, sucking out the strength that she at first gave to me, then took much more.

I could have simply walked out at that point, leaving the mash caked to the wall and the gravy stain on the carpet, but I had nothing else left to lose, so I decided that it was time to play the game myself. I let her believe that she still had her hold on me whilst I built my own walls. Walls that she wouldn't be able to break down. Walls that became stronger with every insult. Walls that I could hide behind in safety whilst I picked holes in hers.

It was easy really, every time she commanded me to make her I drink, I added a little ingredient of my own. Within a month she had consumed several large cartons of 'Bulk-Aid', that special concoction for those that want more muscle. Every time she left me alone in the house I went to work on her clothes, moving in buttons to make them seem tighter. Making her think she was getting fat was quite a subtle start to proceedings, a small physical attack to help the mental strikes have a greater effect.

Hiding her things didn't have much of an effect at first, but when I begun to hide some of the things she needed for work, she started to show the strain. When she came home and slammed the door much harder than usual I knew it was working. That paperwork must have been really important. Of course, I was going to feel the brunt of this, unless I had another attack ready for her. So as she stormed into the living room, I got up to put my coat on, telling her I was going to see 'a friend'.

It was the first time I’d left the house in weeks. My heart was pounding as I took those first slow steps away from my prison. The further away I got, the calmer I became, until I realized I had nothing to be scared of out there. As I sat alone in the park, rubbing some lipstick onto my shirt collar, I thought about her being all alone. It was unlikely that she would head out herself, I hadn't passed on any messages from her friends in a while, telling them she wasn't really interested in seeing them. In one of those moments she had tried to share with me since my awakening she had confessed that she didn't really want to see them until she had lost a little of the weight she had put on. She deserved to suffer in silence for a while, before I put my next plan into action.

When I returned to our home I could tell that she had been crying, the waste-basket was full of mascara-stained tissues. I lay looking at them as I drifted off to sleep on the sofa. Not a part of my plan, but when I was woken by her bustling around the living room looking for her keys, it was apparent that the lonely night had had an effect on her.

"You can't go to work looking like that!" I said.

"You look a right state!" I continued

"You're an embarrassment" I finished with as she slammed the door on her exit. Cruel, you say? No, that was nothing compared to the things she used to say to me. How the pendulum had swung, but it was time to end it before it could possibly swing back. The verbal attack as she left for work would have given me away. It felt good, but it was too soon. She would know that her hold on me was lost, and would be ready to fight back. She had already lessened her assaults on me, and spoken kindly on occasions again. When I looked into those eyes I realized I was teetering on the edge, and if I wasn’t careful I could fall right in all over again.

It didn't take long to pack the things I considered to be mine, and it took considerably less time to write her the note, confessing to her that I no longer found her attractive, that I thought she was stupid, and that I had been sleeping with her friends. None of this was true, but as a parting shot I thought that it might do a little more damage. After all, I did plan to watch from afar for a while, to see if she would find another sucker.



-----------------------


Six months has passed since that day, and I did watch for a while. There was nobody else, not even a friend for quite some time. When she did finally head out with her friends she looked different, she dressed didn't laugh and make jokes and there were none of the smiles that had drawn me in.

Me? I'm doing fine. I'm having to be rather careful these days though, as they always seem to be around me. Other women like she used to be, full of smiles and kind words. They can't get to me now though, I'm stronger, I won't let them break me down again. I know what they’re like, all of them. They see me as a tool, something they can draw from when they feel down. They only want me as something to have power over. Well none of them will have me, ever again.

Sehr gut. Wunderbar. Prima. Toll.

Or in English -

Very good. Wonderful. Brilliant. Great.

;-)

Excellent again.

Christ, the standard of writing here is really through the roof. I accept full responsiblity for getting everyone writing in the first place.

Ahem.

Thanks all for your praise. :o)

You know, I may have posted this before, but I didn't think that I had. I wrote it some time ago, and possibly posted the original version, before reworking it to what we have now.

That seems really familiar - have you posted it before? I knew what he would do to her before I reached that part of the story. Didn't stop me reading it all the way to the end though or enjoying it again.

I'm positive that I felt sorry for him the first time around but just to show how perspective can change, this time I really feel for her. He is a drain on her vitality and her lifeforce. He places the blame for his own shortcomings totally upon her and then destroys her.

Meka, please stop writings stuff. I'll never get my degree done at this rate!

I loved it, that really is my kind of story, and probably the best of yours i've read. The way it flowed and you actually ended up feeling for his lover was really convincing, and the whole relationship between the two characters had a surreal air around it.

Again, loved it, best piece i've read in a while.

It sounds too much like porn.

I'll read it later

Black Glove wrote:
> Ah yes, excellent. Always good to read your stuff.

And then I thank you also.

Ah yes, excellent. Always good to read your stuff.

Allred wrote:
> Good read, nice work.

Thank you kindly.