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The Amazon Bow
By Julian Drury
I found the marvelous creation, while shopping in the flea-market. It was said to be an antique, many hundreds, if not thousands of years old. The Bow is carved in fine cherry-wood of some kind, with a myriad of strange carvings and designs imprinted on its hide. The antique sat on a table with a number of worthless objects and thrift-stand junk. The Bow, however, was not junk, not at all. In fact, I could feel just how special it was, as if I lived every moment of my life in order to one day shop through this market and find this magnificent Bow.
The man who owned the stand in which the Bow was sold offered me more stories on the craft work than I desired to hear. He was a short, incredibly old man (perhaps in his waning days). I assumed him to be blind. I asked the man how much the Bow cost, and he replied by telling me a fantastic tale.
The Bow was supposedly made by the Amazons, the mythical race of warrior women from ancient days. The object had been blessed, or cursed, by the gods of the old world and bestows great power to all who wield the Bow. Great power, at some ominous price of course. That’s how all those stories end up.
The story was cute, for sure. Yet, how could I possibly believe such a silly thing? Surely if it was a Bow made by the legendary Amazons, why would anyone sell such an object, let alone for only one-hundred dollars at a small city thrift market?
I had enough money, and maybe it wasn’t wise to consider the purchase. Though, I was adventurous. With one-hundred dollars paid, I left the market with the strange Amazon Bow (so it was called). Obsession gripped me while driving home.
The Bow was placed in the passenger’s seat next to me, propped up as if it was a living entity to be considered. I thought about taking the Bow directly to the archery, though I had not brought any of my arrows with me. I always loved archery, especially when I was a girl. I never entered contests or sport, just privately going to the range and firing away my frustrations and time on the multi-colored targets. I thought about running home briefly and grabbing some arrows, yet I hesitated with this.
Thinking about going home to retrieve arrows immediately filled me with resentment, because it made me think about my husband. One of the main reasons I practiced archery to pass my time in adulthood; that scumbag husband of mine, Dennis.
For two years my husband, Dennis, has been out of work, and lives mainly off of an unemployment check and the two jobs I maintain (while finishing my degree). He sits in my apartment day and night. He spends most of his time drinking, or smoking crack that he gets from the neighbor four apartments down. He spends the unemployment on himself, while I feed him, wash him, provide his every little need. My parents and friends are distanced from me because of him, and every week I have to find ways to pay off the loans I took to keep me and him in a place to live. Of course, I avoid him mostly for his drunken rages.
None of that bothered me nearly as much as his need of involving me in his drug deals, and often I found myself sucked into the madness of his habits. Get a bag for him here or there, soon becomes running dope and dope dealers in an out of my house. If I complained, he would merely pick up the phone and tell me to “call the cops.” I never would. He would laugh at my weakness, my dependency that could never be explained. Dennis made me feel so weak, so un-special that I would sometimes cry myself to sleep trying not to accept these facts
Something was whispering the cold fact to me. Dennis had to pay. I was filing for divorce soon, but that just was not enough. Something more must be done, as a quaint suffering inside myself had to be avenged.
I examined the Bow, even while driving. I was careful, though. I was always responsible. I always handled my affairs the best. The Bow was just a marvelous find. I soon gained the feeling that all could be mine, if I cared for and adhered to the will of the Bow unconditionally. I could have what I wanted.
I thought to myself about those legendary Amazons. It seems like a fantastic tale, and grand piece of human mythology. What would the world have been with this ancient race of warrior women? I often think of my own esteem, my own lack of confrontational attitude. Dennis and my work to maintain my life drain my anger, and I was raised especially shy. I have to stand up for myself, but I can’t seem to do so. I cannot be worthy to own the Bow of the Amazons if I cannot find a warrior within me. I must find myself on a field of battle, and conquer what drags me to despair.
Am I not worthy of personal happiness? Surely I have had many men with opportunities to be alone, to cheat, to weave a tangled web of pleasured deceit. Yet, against my better sense, remained the one in chastity. While Dennis drinks, gets high, and sits comfortably on my couch that I paid for, I have to work, worry, and constantly seek justification from myself that what I am doing is the right thing. Not anymore.
The truth is, I was tired of not being in control of my life, tired of spending my money and time away on a man who never really loved me. I was always a meal-ticket to Dennis. Though, I felt a major slap in the face when I discovered the affair he was having with an ex-waitress at one of the cafes I worked. The Bow reminds me that I do have a choice, an option to take control. I took control of my life, for the first time in years. I was in control, and I always will be.
So, it wasn’t long after that returned home, and killed my husband.
There is so many years of shouting, degradation I could stand? Should I have stood it further? No, it was time. Much like in the classical stories of myth, when Hercules stole the belt from the Amazon Queen Hippolyta, as part of his twelve labors. The very queen which he would kill, in spite. Dennis has stolen from me in similar ways, violated me in similar ways. I also felt, if I did not reverse the course of history, Dennis would soon bring the death of me too.
I had to change things. I had to be strong, be a warrior. Whispers came to me, and when I parked the car in the driveway, I looked over at the figure of the Bow. It spoke to me clearly, and showed me the only rational solution. It was the solution all along.
There he was, drunk, with his dick in his hand and watching threesomes on some cheaply made porn-flick. Watching that disgusting crap on the TV that I paid for! Cocaine was still laid out on the table in front of him. I know for sure he wasn’t waiting for me.
“You’re always late, Jesus Christ.” that scum said to me. “What’s the woman-problem now, Dianne?”
“I was shopping at the flea-market,” I replied.
“Oh yea, does the flea-market hold the dope I need to get through the bullshit of my day? Now, does it?” Dennis began to raise his voice. “Well, you at least get the stuff I told you?”
“No, I didn’t.” Dennis laughed at me.
“You worthless bitch. The only reason you stay married to me is because you know that I’m the only motherfucker that would love your scrawny ass. That’s right. I ask you to do one simple thing, one simple fucking thing!...” I stopped listening to him. He refused to turn his head to look at me. He snorted a line, and continued screaming.
No, I didn’t get your drugs today you bastard, I thought to myself. I won’t get anything for you anymore.
As much as I wanted to just divorce and be done, I knew it would never be that simple. The Bow made that clear to me. It whispered to me the truth I needed. There was only one way to regain my honor. There is only one way to regain a warrior’s dignity.
Lift me gently, it whispered. I listed to the command. Dennis still screamed and went on, and I still refused to listen. Pull the string back, just like that. I was guided through every step.
“Honey,” I said. “I have something I’ve been waiting to tell you.”
“Like what, you strip for some extra cash?”
Dennis blinked, and said nothing afterward. It was over, at long last.
The power of the Amazon Bow made this so, and I can still hear it calling me. The will of the warrior fired the fatal shot into the eye of my gutless spouse. I realize you and the rational world will never believe me. Yet, what I say is the truth, or my truth at least. I gripped the Bow in my hands, and I fired a shot from the ancient powers who blessed me. Insane it seems, and perhaps I may eventually accept a state of mind in which I recognize the insanity. Yet, for now, I know this as truth. I was, and still am, a warrior.
A warrior, especially an Amazon, could accept nothing less than stringing up The Bow, praying to the old goddesses, before aiming at the cheating husband…then releasing the string from my fingers.
I needed no arrows of my own.
#Unreal #AmazonBow #GirlPower #ThriftStoreFinds #AmazonWomen #Murder
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