Behind Closed Doors
Completed- Author
- ZHIHU
- Translator
- Edward Quan
- Genres
- Mystery Psychological Drama Tragedy
- Chapters
- 5
Synopsis
“How do you poison your husband without anyone finding out?” It was eight in the evening. I was browsing a forum called “The Housewives' Help Station” when I came across a post with that title. The author was a full-time homemaker too. She described in detail how she secretly added poison to her husband's food every day, slowly killing him without anyone knowing. There were plenty of comments. Some people thought she had gone too far, but others cheered her on, praising and encouraging her. Bang! I had just left a comment when someone hammered on our front door. The sound struck straight at my heart, jolting me out of my thoughts. I hurried from the study to the living room without even stopping to put on my slippers. My daughter's bedroom door was open a crack. Through it, I could see her eyes, full of terror, like a frightened fledgling's. “Go to bed!” I called. Bang! The next instant, the front door burst open. A man reeking of alcohol staggered in. My daughter slammed her door in fright. I stepped forward to support him. Because that revolting drunk was none other than my husband, Đại Dũng. He sagged against me, a dead weight that nearly crushed the breath out of me. Enduring the stench of alcohol, I tried to help him to the bedroom. Instead, he shoved me away and raised his hand. Smack! The slap cracked through the apartment like a firecracker. My frail body couldn't withstand it. I fell sideways onto the sofa, my vision darkening, my mouth filling with the metallic taste of blood. “You useless bitch! Can't you pour me a glass of water?” He pointed at my face and roared, “I work my ass off to earn money, and you can't even do one tiny thing right! Lazy freeloader! I must have been blind to marry a wasteful bitch like you!” I held my burning cheek, misery choking me. How much longer did I have to endure this life? “Let's... get a divorce...” It took every scrap of courage to say it. The word “divorce” sent him into a frenzy. He lunged at me, forced me onto the floor, straddled me, and clamped both hands around my neck. “Mention divorce again and I'll kill you! I'll kill you!” He seemed beyond reason. His hands tightened. I struggled in agony. But my strength drained away, and gradually my body stopped responding. Everything went black. I knew nothing more.