The Altercation — A Short Story

To push others to their breaking point…

CW // Domestic Violence

People who judge others might have the wrong opinion. You can’t accurately perceive what others are going through without knowing them first. Or at least without them telling you. How can we identify how one feels if we don’t ask them? More notably, is it our problem?

It’s not my place to assess relationships. Everyone has their complications; we all have to work through our problems when they arise. Some people get through their disagreements, cherishing their excellent communication skills. Others lack that skill and move on from one another.

Then there are those in more dire circumstances, leading even the most compassionate person to question.

The two were at it again. Used to be infrequent. Now it’s weekly, almost routine. The disputes varied from serious to trivial. The only agreement they reached was that they would never find happiness together.

It all stemmed from one major problem.

These arguments were usually one-sided, with the husband appearing to be the one in power. The wife held her ground occasionally but eventually caved from his wrath. Unfortunately for her, it typically progressed to the point of him hitting her. Making matters worse, these events frequently unfolded in public settings. As others head home for the night, they observe this charade happening in front of them. Both the wife and husband were aware of this, but the wife felt embarrassed while the husband remained indifferent.

“Know your place,” I’d wager, was his favorite line. I’d go further and bet he already used the phrase tonight.

I had a prime view of them walking down the street, although I couldn’t hear their conversation. It was clear he yelled at her again. At least that.

The exchange today seemed peculiar. The wife appeared fed up as if this was her final outburst. Despite their frequent fights, I’d never seen her this furious before. She looked indignant.

Push someone too far, and they break. I felt that all too well.

“No, you know your place!” There was no reading those lips wrong. Crystal clear. With a forceful slap, he left a bright handprint across her face.

She rubbed her cheek, facing away from her husband, hatred filling her eyes. She wanted to do something, anything, to lash out or get away. I know it. She had to be feeling that way, yet she stayed there. Sometimes, even in the worst situations, people choose to stay, and I can’t comprehend why. Maybe she hoped something would change. But it wasn’t my place to speak for her. I don’t know her. How am I to judge?

“Get back inside now!” I didn’t need to hear it to recognize what he demanded. He had enough of their altercation.

To my surprise, she didn’t move. Instead, she stood her ground.

Good on her.

It only made the husband angrier. Hitting her again, she eventually stumbled inside their home. Briefly lingering outside, the man couldn’t help but smirk to himself.

But I had about enough watching that same scenario for the thirty-sixth time. I was glad to receive the clearance I needed finally. Zooming in a bit more, I calculated the trajectory. When it felt right, I pulled the trigger and he dropped face-first into the earth moments later.

The woman rushed outside and saw her husband on the ground, missing a relatively sizeable chunk of his head. Before she had time to do anything further, my team intercepted her. I stepped away from my rifle, having a quick stretch after sitting for so many hours.

Disassembling my rifle, I packed it into the nearby briefcase and left the building where I had been residing for the past few months, en route to my next target.

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