Thirty third.

     It was almost a week since he hadn't let her go out of the house. Or call any of her relatives or friends. It was getting difficult day by day, the fear in her was getting stronger, and the bolder her was dissolving into thin air every passing second. He would never leave her alone for even a minute or two, he probably knew she was already making up her escape plans.
     She would heave a sigh of relief when an another day passed by without anything happening to her. She felt he was capable of killing her lest he found a slightest chance to do so. And given the seclusion she was living in right now, it didn't seem too far.  It wasn't always the same. He had changed so much after they came to know that she couldn't have a baby ever. He had started to make decisions for her. She wasn't allowed to do anything of her choice as if not not being able to become a mother rendered her useless to him. But this wasn't who she was either.
    She picked up the knife from a tray and walked stealthily from behind. It was about to get over, she would be the one to end it. She had never wanted this. But it would have been happening to her anytime now if she didn't do it. She steadied the knife. 'Maya, did you like the- what? What are you doing!' turning towards her, he scrambled onto his feet. 'Let me go out, open the door!' she screamed. 'You need some more rest, Maya, listen to me!' She wasn't going to. Not anymore. Just as she lifted up the knife, he pushed her onto the bed. The knife made a clutter as it fell onto the ground. He stuck an olanzapine in her shoulder. 'You need to sleep Maya!' he cried near her ear. He cried for hours the entire night. Her schizophrenia had got her crazy. She had got him tired. But unlike her, he was going to love her the same.