The Thunder Rolls

Chapter 1

Three years. I had thought to myself, tending to the small garden of vegetables before me, it had been nearly three years since I was forced to marry. My husband, Joseph Wade, was an awful, pathetic excuse of a man. I always in my head said to myself, what man buys a bride, Jolene? What man willingly pays another man for his daughter's hand? A no-good excuse of a man is my conclusion.

My father was no better a man. The man who sold me was a sad drunk, with terrible gambling habits. His habits worsened after my mother passed away from tuberculosis four years beforehand. Life was tolerable when my mother was alive, she hid my father's habits from me quite well, although when I grew to be a teen, they became more noticeable. He became even more involved with his vices, after she died, taking his drunken anger out on me on many occasions. My mother was a strong and kind woman. She was the beauty of town when she was my current age, beautiful both physically and in character. Remembering how she always helped those who needed it, even if we ourselves had little to offer, it made me want to do good for others as well when I was a child. My father hated her bleeding heart, saying it wasted his hard-earned money, money he would have wasted for gambling and drinking at the town's saloon. After she died, I always questioned why she ended up with my ugly, and pathetic father.

I sat in the vegetable garden, looking at the dark cloudy, rumbling sky. It'd be a big storm rolling in tonight, the rain was much needed. I hated thunderstorms as a child, but now I welcome them. The storms always seemed to give me strength, the thunder that would sing in the sky seemed to sing into my heart. Finishing up in the garden, collecting the assortment of potatoes and carrots, to use them for the stew I was cooking up for tonight. Nearly rolling my eyes at the thought that I'd have to share my meal with my dreadful husband. Dusting myself off as I stood up and made my way into our small house. Joseph owned it before he bought me from my father. It wasn't a great big pretty house that I always imagined I'd live in as a child, it was a sad dreary two room cabin on the outskirts of the logging town, Mt. Ashe. I walked into the house, crossing the room to the tiny kitchen space next to the wood stove, placing my collection of vegetables on the small counter. Walking over to the stove, I placed more wood inside, then stirred the stew brewing on top, rabbit with mixed vegetables from the garden, a simple but hearty meal. After tasting the mixture, I added some thyme and rosemary for flavor, before I went back to my vegetables on the counter and began chopping them up to add into the stew. The rain finally began to fall as I worked on the task at hand.

The stew finished only an hour and a half later. I didn't wait for my husband to get home before I served the meal into two bowls, setting them on the table in the middle of the small living room. Sitting down in my chair, I began to eat, knowing my own food would get cold if I waited for him to stumble in the door, not caring if his own food would get cold. Joseph stumbled into the doorway nearly thirty minutes later, clearly drunk, and clearly in one of his mood swings.

"Woman, ye couldn't even have the courtesy of waiting for your husband to get home before helping yourself to food?" He slurred, annoyance flashing in his drunk beady eyes as I did not make a response. The rolling thunder grabbed my interest more than my own husband ever could. Joseph huffed as he sank into his own chair across from me at the table.

"At least tell me what this garbage is, that I'm supposed to fucking eat tonight." He demanded, his voice growing even more irate from my silence. I turned to look at him, leaving my gaze from the window over the kitchen sink, my own patience thinning just by looking at him.

"Rabbit stew with mixed vegetables." Answer as I took in the last bite from my own bowl. He slammed his fists on the table in anger, just as a huge thunderclap let out from the sky above the house, causing me to startle. Then my anger grew as he yelled towards me.

"You know I hate rabbit meat, you stupid bitch! I refuse to eat this!" He yelled as he shoved the bowl away from himself, crossing his arms like a toddler. Pathetic drunk. He grew more angered as he saw my eyes roll at him. His voice rose in a demanding tone of anger. "You better god damn make me something else!"

Pushing myself up from my seat in anger, I walked over and snatched the bowl up angrily, and made my way to the small kitchenette a few feet from the table. My back was turned from him as I dumped out the food. A large crack of thunder rang through the sky as I spoke angrily as I turned around to yell at him. "Like hell I fucking will! You can starve for all I care, you no good pathetic excuse of a man! You couldn't even get a girl to love you and marry you, so you had to go and buy a bri–"

My sentence was cut off by a large hand squeezing around my neck. I gasped for breath as the hand tightened around my windpipe, my hands flailing and hitting his shoulder to try and free myself. My vision blurred and my ears rang from the lack of air, as he continued to hurl insults at me, then I felt a hard hit to my gut, knocking out the rest of the little air I had. You're going to die if you don't do something, Jo. I reached behind me towards the counter feeling for something to hit him with, or at least make him free my airway. I felt my hand reach the grip of the meat cleaver I had used earlier that day to dress the rabbit, my grip tightening on it, lifting it up into the air not fully seeing where my aim would hit. The cleaver struck him, as it lodged into him, making him drop me to the floor, I gasped for breath finally getting air into my burning lungs. Feeling the thud of him falling to the floor caused me to focus my vision and see where he fell, then I saw where I had struck. Right in the nape of his neck, I continued to breathe heavily as I cautiously moved closer towards Joseph as I heard him choking on his own blood in the back of his throat. I should help him. Is what I should've thought to myself, but that didn't happen. Instead, I looked dead in his eyes as I watched him slowly bleed out and gasp for his last breath. Coldly returning his gaze, as I saw his eyes grow dull with the hue of death waxing over them.

Frozen, shaking I sat on the floor of the cabin for God knows how long, staring at Joseph, lying there dead on the floor. "Shit..." I muttered to myself, looking down at my hands and clothes, they were covered in blood. Training my eyes back at his lifeless form on the floor as I stumbled to my feet, tears starting to gather in my eyes. My feelings were a mixture of relief and dread, finally realizing what I had done. "I-I killed him, he's gone. I'm free."

Adrenaline finally kicked into my body, forced me up from the floor. I ran to our once shared tiny bedroom, I looked over at myself in the mirror on top of the armoire. The storm outside is still raging, like the inside of my mind. You can't stay here, Jo. The foreman from the logging site will come looking for him when he doesn't show up for work in the morning. I looked like a mess, my olive skin on my neck had started to form a bruise from the amount of force he had applied from his chokehold. My loosely braided auburn hair was disheveled and falling out of its restraints, and lastly the blood. His blood. It had splattered all over my clothes, hands, and face. I don't even have anywhere to go. But I have to get out of this place.

I grabbed the essentials, not even bothering to change my blood-soaked clothes or clean my face and hands. Packing in a small canvas sack only one change of clothes to change into later down the road. As I was about to walk out the door of the tiny cabin, a loud crack of thunder struck, making me jump back. It doesn't stop me though as I make my way over to the small shed next to the garden, I look at the mare that was in the stall unsure of if I should take her. She neighed at me as if telling me to hurry up and get her tack on her.

Not even thirty minutes later was I galloping down the road that led out into the open woods around the town, the rain from the storm pelting my skin. It made me feel alive and free, something I hadn't felt since the day I married the dead bastard. But it also filled me with dread as my adrenaline slowly wore off. I slowed my horse down to a stop, the rain still pounding on my skin, a stroke of thunder made me breathe heavier, as I tried to grip the reins as tight as I could, but I was visibly aware now how numb they were. As I tried to steady my breathing, I swayed back and forth on the saddle, my vision blurred in and out as I continued to try and breathe steadily. I thought I heard another set of hooves riding up on the road, but as soon as another strike of lightning rang from the air, I toppled over from the shock causing me to hit the ground. The world began spinning as I lay on my back, until I saw nothing but black.