Ulterior Motives

"So, all this fucking time, you wanted me dead?!" 
I said, as my husband, or, the man I called a husband, stood in front of me, mallet in hand. I met him when we were in middle school. I used to pick on him so much, to the point where I'd hide behind walls and contemplate what I was doing. I was paranoid to tell him my true feelings. That dusty little secret I had buried inside of me so long ago. I ended up telling him after so much bullying, and before I could vow to him that I'd stop, he instantly said he loved me back. 
We finally got hitched last week, and we bought ourselves a small home in a big rural area. We always wanted a house like that, as it isn't too much money, and reminds the both of us of the places we grew up in. Now, all of those happy memories I thought we'd create, faded. He spoke back to me.
"You really think I'd forgive you? After you grabbed me by my hair, and shoved my head in the toilet? After you made me go into anaphylactic shock by putting nuts in my food? Look at you, cowering like a sick dog. You weren't like that back then."
Back then? He cares more about how I was back then compared to now? I looked at the sheep stickers on my ceiling as he spoke, one last time. It was my favorite animal, because it reminded me of what kind of person I wanted in my life. Someone soft, cuddly, and innoxious. He was really good at putting on a Broadway performance. A world of lies, just for me. 
"Look at me, bitch."
He'd grabbed my face by the chin, and forced me against my hardwood vanity, bending my back ever so slightly. I was gasping for my life, scared of what he'd say next. The constant lying hurt more than a punch to the throat. I begged him to tell me the truth already, and why he changed so spontaneously.
"You humiliated me. Over and over and over. I wasn't gonna let you get away with all you've done, so I thought ahead! While you were drifting off to sleep, I had time to think. Those tedious little pieces of paper on the ceiling? Those were distractions. Distractions that made things easier to put together. It's cute, you know? You acted so tough back then, yet look at how childish you are with your decorations."
"You're a sick fuck!"
"Oh, that's real nice. Keep talking to me like that. It's motivating."
My nose met tough rubber. Wham. Wham. Wham. Ichor flew, and my ears rang. A million telephones went off in my head, almost deafening me. I squeaked, but nothing came out. I squawked; still nothing. That's when I fell to the floor, my eyes rolling back to my brain. The last thing I ever saw before the light blinded me, was my then-husband placing my radio next to him as he lied in a relaxed position. He then switched to AM."You're counting all the sheep, in the sky... 
Caught up in a world, of lies...
Everyone knows that, you've got...
Ulterior Motives, tell me the truth...
Every move shows-"
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