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She pulled into the driveway and noticed the house was dark. Damon’s car was there so she figured he must be in the back of the house. She her key in the lock and turned it to the right. When the lock released, she opened the door and walked inside. She looked around and didn’t see any lights on, so she walked to the bedroom, thinking Damon must be taking a nap. When she opened the bedroom door, Damon was sitting on the bed in the dark. “What’s he doing?”
“Hi honey. Are you okay? All the lights are off.” She said walking past him to put her briefcase in the closet and kicking her shoes off at the same time.
Denise didn’t see the penetrating gaze of Damon’s light brown eyes. She began to change clothes, so she could cook dinner when Damon walked over to her and hugged her from behind. “Oh, he wants to makeup. Cool,” she thought. He pulled and dragged her backwards to the bed and threw her down. “I’m not into rough sex,” she thought.
“Damon! What are you doing? I have to cook dinner, unless you’re taking me out tonight.” She said breathlessly.
Damon never opened his mouth. Instead he jumped on the bed beside Denise and grabbed her by the throat with his right hand. He positioned himself across her, sitting on her chest and placed his left hand around her throat. Finally Denise, saw that he was not himself. She barely recognized his contorted features. He began squeezing harder and harder. Denise began to cough. Through the coughs she screamed as much as she could, “Damon, Stop! Please, Damon! Damon, it’s me, Denise! Please, Damon. Stop!”
She hit him with her fists anywhere she could, trying to get his attention. She squirmed until she could reach the lamp. She grasped it in her hand and swung with all of her strength toward Damon’s head. The corner of the lamp hit Damon on the shoulder. Denise continued to scream as much as she could. She swung the lamp again and hit Damon in the head. He released her neck with his right hand and grabbed his head. Denise struggled and freed herself. She rolled over onto the floor as Damon held his head. Denise could see the blood coming from where she had hit him. She stumbled to the living room and grabbed her keys and her purse. She opened the door and ran to her car as fast as she could. Once inside, she locked the door to give herself a chance to catch her breath. She didn’t want Damon to come outside and drag her from the car.
After a few minutes, when she could at least get some air down to her lungs, she started the car and drove straight over to Marie’s house barefoot. She wasn’t at home. More than likely, she was at Calvin’s place. She really didn’t want to bother them, but she didn’t want to go back to the house with Damon either. She drove around for a few minutes then decided to check into a hotel. She found a place that she felt was okay then went into the trunk to grab a pair of shoes, since she was barefoot. Once inside the rented room, rather than call Marie’s cell phone and cause a panic, she called her home number and left a message. Denise examined herself in the mirror and saw the imprints of Damon hands around her neck. It was so clear that she could count the finger indentions. “What was he thinking? That’s not the man I married,” she thought.
She pulled into the driveway and noticed the house was dark. Damon’s car was there so she figured he must be in the back of the house. She her key in the lock and turned it to the right. When the lock released, she opened the door and walked inside. She looked around and didn’t see any lights on, so she walked to the bedroom, thinking Damon must be taking a nap. When she opened the bedroom door, Damon was sitting on the bed in the dark. “What’s he doing?”
“Hi honey. Are you okay? All the lights are off.” She said walking past him to put her briefcase in the closet and kicking her shoes off at the same time.
Denise didn’t see the penetrating gaze of Damon’s light brown eyes. She began to change clothes, so she could cook dinner when Damon walked over to her and hugged her from behind. “Oh, he wants to makeup. Cool,” she thought. He pulled and dragged her backwards to the bed and threw her down. “I’m not into rough sex,” she thought.
“Damon! What are you doing? I have to cook dinner, unless you’re taking me out tonight.” She said breathlessly.
Damon never opened his mouth. Instead he jumped on the bed beside Denise and grabbed her by the throat with his right hand. He positioned himself across her, sitting on her chest and placed his left hand around her throat. Finally Denise, saw that he was not himself. She barely recognized his contorted features. He began squeezing harder and harder. Denise began to cough. Through the coughs she screamed as much as she could, “Damon, Stop! Please, Damon! Damon, it’s me, Denise! Please, Damon. Stop!”
She hit him with her fists anywhere she could, trying to get his attention. She squirmed until she could reach the lamp. She grasped it in her hand and swung with all of her strength toward Damon’s head. The corner of the lamp hit Damon on the shoulder. Denise continued to scream as much as she could. She swung the lamp again and hit Damon in the head. He released her neck with his right hand and grabbed his head. Denise struggled and freed herself. She rolled over onto the floor as Damon held his head. Denise could see the blood coming from where she had hit him. She stumbled to the living room and grabbed her keys and her purse. She opened the door and ran to her car as fast as she could. Once inside, she locked the door to give herself a chance to catch her breath. She didn’t want Damon to come outside and drag her from the car.
After a few minutes, when she could at least get some air down to her lungs, she started the car and drove straight over to Marie’s house barefoot. She wasn’t at home. More than likely, she was at Calvin’s place. She really didn’t want to bother them, but she didn’t want to go back to the house with Damon either. She drove around for a few minutes then decided to check into a hotel. She found a place that she felt was okay then went into the trunk to grab a pair of shoes, since she was barefoot. Once inside the rented room, rather than call Marie’s cell phone and cause a panic, she called her home number and left a message. Denise examined herself in the mirror and saw the imprints of Damon hands around her neck. It was so clear that she could count the finger indentions. “What was he thinking? That’s not the man I married,” she thought.
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