  For best continuity read 'Beaten' first Sarah heard the car pull up in the driveway, and the knots in her stomach tightened a little more. The car door slammed shut, and footsteps scuffed towards the front door. The key found the lock and the door opened and Sarah grasped at the damp tea towel nervously in her hands, using the kitchen top to support her weakening legs. Her husband didn’t come through to see her though, instead walked up the stairs, the fifth one creaking loudly. She stood rigid in the kitchen pushing her-self against the corner of the work surface trying to shrink her-self to nothing. The footsteps above her were in the bedroom now, things were being pulled to the floor and dragged around. She listened keenly as the heavy footfalls made their way into the office room, more crashing, then the second bedroom, more crashing, then the stairs started to creak again as he made his way down. Sarah’s breathing started to quicken, her muscles squeezed tightly as her body began to shake like struck by an unrelenting frost. She listened to each step as it came closer, through the hallway into the living room, then pushing at the door to the kitchen. A small whimper escaped from her throat that took her by surprise, and her husband entered the room, a fire burning in his eyes that scolded her silently before the shouting began.
‘What’s wrong with you?’ No reply was necessary or advisable; she had learned that very early on in their marriage. ‘This place is a fucking pigsty, what have you been doing all day you lazy bitch, watching television sat on you arse, or have you been screwing around with someone else?’ ‘Of course not!’ She couldn’t help herself, the words flying out before she had a chance to stop them. Her next reaction was to cower as the first blow landed on the side of her head. ‘Don’t you dare shout at me you little whore.
I’ll teach you who runs this house!’ She was silent as he grabbed her wispy blond hair and threw her across the room, crashing into the table and three chairs that served as the dining area. ‘Ill teach you to screw around when I’m not here. I’ll make it so no man will want you when I’ve finished with you!’ He advanced on her, grabbing the boiling kettle on his way, which he then raised above his head and smashed over her.
She felt blood trickle from the wound that resulted on her forehead, and she closed her left eye to stop it flowing inside. Scolds seared into the flesh on her arms and torso sending her into a brief state of shock that helped numb the pain. His strong left hand grasped her by the throat and pushed her back onto the floor whilst his other hand ripped at her beneath her skirt. Oh God, not that, she thought. He’s going to rape me. It was vicious and quick, but none the less scarring.
Blood flowed on her thighs as she crawled into a foetal ball when he rolled from on top of her. She could hear him breathing heavily from the effort of exertion, before he stood and went to a cupboard to fetch a biscuit for himself. Between bites he turned to her again and looked puzzled at her reaction. ‘What’s wrong with you?’ He mumbled through crumbs, spraying the floor with food debris in the process. ‘Don’t you like making love to your own husband anymore?’ Sarah issued a guttural sob, and sniffed in reply.
‘Answer me when I ask you a question.’ She could hear in his voice that he was winding himself up again for another round, but she didn’t really care anymore, her will low, just strong enough to let her stay curled up in a ball and wait for the inevitable. ‘ANSWER ME!’ The first kick struck her in the kidney, winding her badly as she struggled to breath.
Then she felt the rough hands grab her ankle and drag her into the living room where he would have enough room to do a proper job on her. ‘Come on then bitch, lets see what you’ve got shall we?’ His words sounded demented as he spoke them, as if he didn’t even realise it was his wife he was beating. He dragged her up to her feet by the shirt collar and dealt her a thundering punch to the side of the head, then picked her up and gave her one that echoed loudly on the other side to match.
His fists specked blood from her face, but that didn’t slow him down in the slightest as he jerked his head forward in a violent motion breaking her nose. The look on his face was glass, showing little or no emotion, just calculated moves designed to cause her as much damage as possible. His rage had turned in on itself and resurfaced as pure cruelty. Her eyes started to close up with the swelling around the broken eyes, and his fist crashed into her left ear causing a slight popping sound before the squealing started in her brain that would take several weeks fade away. She started to lose count of the amount of times he hit her, but didn’t stop feeling the pain it caused. Darkness flitted over her eyes as she started to suffer from brief blackouts, a small rest-bite, only to wake again to face more blows.
A feral growl started to emit from her husbands throat as he lost control of his actions completely. Sarah could barely breath now, and truly believed that she would die this time. He had never been this bad before. She had been to the hospital a few times with the odd broken bones, called the police out once or twice only to tell them it was a mistake and that she had been mistaken about her husbands’ intentions. He had received a warning and a caution, but had always managed to get out of it somehow. Usually because she gave him an alibi, by falling down the stairs more times than would seem possible for even the clumsiest woman, or dropped the charges she could have held up against him due to some misguided loyalty. This time it wouldn’t go that far because this time she would die, and it wouldn’t hurt anymore. She looked forward to it. ‘LEAVE HER ALONE!’ He spoke aloud, but it wasn’t his voice. Sarah could barely see now but could just about make out his lips moving when he spoke, but the voice sounded different, but still familiar. ‘LEAVE HER ALONE YOU BASTARD!’ She knew it now. It was louder, clearer, and she knew the voice.
She croaked recognition begging for help and knowing it would come immediately. ‘Mum, please help me.’ Her husbands’ body was flung backwards instantly in reply, crashing into the dresser on the far wall as he cried out in shock. ‘YOU LEAVE HER ALONE!’ His fists, bloody with fluids from Sarah’s face and body started pounding at his own head whilst his body threw itself from wall to wall, into furniture and crashing into glass and china causing large gashes in his face and body. All the time he was crying out in pain and anger not knowing how to regain control. Sarah smiled as much as she could, feeling a couple of teeth fall through her lips, well lubricated, onto the carpet. Although blurred she saw him smash all the plates and glasses he could find onto the floor and then skid face first through the shards, blinding him as his eyes were cut, and gagging him as his throat filled with blood. This made the sounds coming out of his mouth distorted, but she could still recognise her mothers’ voice as she continued to curse the man that had caused her daughter so much pain.
As quickly as it started, the movement stopped, and the sound with it, apart from the laboured breathing coming from Sarah’s chest, and a panicked gargle coming from her husbands throat. ‘No, no, no, no, no!’ He had mustered every last ounce of will to regain some control over his own body, but still that was all he could manage to say as he brought up a shard of glass to his chest and thrust it deeply into his own heart killing him instantly.
As he fell to the floor, finally dead, Sarah saw his lips move mouthing his final words. ‘Nobody hurts my little girl.’ And Sarah smiled again. The police took her directly to hospital when they finally arrived at the scene. They looked in disbelief on Sarah’s tiny frame after seeing the carnage around the house. The man was dead, so they covered him up with an old sheet until the coroner could come to pick him up. It was clear what had happened to everyone who came into the room. Sarah was an abused wife who had taken one beating too many, and she had been infused with an almost supernatural strength when she had finally fought back against this man who was almost twice her size.
They were in awe of what she had done, and knew that no court in the country would blame her for killing him. It was clear self-defence, and this was confirmed to her over the phone by the prosecution service as she healed in the hospital. The only thing that didn’t make sense was the report of the female officer that had been by her bed when she had woken up. The first words that she spoke, before she even opened her eyes fully, or as fully as she could through the swelling. It didn’t make sense because she didn’t have any children. She said ‘Nobody hurts my little girl.’ 
