Deathwish 006: Elle
“I can almost feel the impact, liquor and purse and teeth flying”
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At least once a week, I walk to and from the liquor store, thinking about if I’ll die on the way there. Never look back at strangers' footsteps, hyper-alert hearing. I hold the neck of the glass bottle in a way that makes it easy to swing at someone's face. Look both ways three times before crossing and imagine a car that comes out of nowhere. I can almost feel the impact, liquor and purse and teeth flying into the air the way I have seen in all those videos on LiveLeaks. My fiancé says he stands at our 5th floor balcony, watching me walk home.
When I fight with him I think if I’ll die in the dark corner of the bathroom, fileting myself with his straight razor. Disembowel the parts of me that need to lay empty like the space in bed between us, a place I can't lay any words. As much distance between his body and the wrongs in mine as possible. I lay with my back to him in the dark. He tries to get me to talk and my fingers curl under and into fists, my hands over my guts.
On rainy days, when I turn left, go over 55 mph, I think if I’ll die while driving. When he puts his feet up on the dashboard I see his ex-wife’s calves there. There are ways of being broken that feel like a kind of death. A car pulls out in front of us and he gasps and pulls his feet down quick. Adidas shoe prints left oily on the windshield. I imagine the calves of his ex-wife's legs, the exposed bone he described. The gaping skin and meat, how I learned what "compound fracture" means. He says he can't look at my calves, ever.
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Elle was born in North Yorkshire, England, and lives in Denver, Colorado.