Escaped & Caught
This prose is based on truth, and is long, but it was needed to be written; these words are the voice of the woman in this piece that needed to be heard.
A scene keeps running through my mind, as I look at the baby in my arms. This innocent child, whom even in my womb, I had to protect from his own father; even before you were born I was protecting you; protecting us. I remember one scene very clearly; the day I thought I might lose you my little one by his vicious hands.
The beast was in him this day. Ranting and carrying on around the house. He was upset with me, for somebody was able to do something for me that he couldn't. Someone, whom at the time I considered a friend, loaned me money for the apartment we were living in. I never told him who truly lent me the money, but he found out and blew a gasket. He threatened, yelled and pushed things around the house. At the time I was at least 7 months along with you my little son.
My heart was pounding a mile a minute. I knew I was in trouble. Looking frantically around the room, looking for something, I didn't know what though. Then he came at me. My first reaction was to protect you my son. I took my arms and wrapped them around my body like a shield. I wouldn't let any harm come to you. The first blow landed on my face. (Should have known) The others landed on my arms and back. I took it, and not a tear came from my eyes, only blankness, I wouldn't give him that satisfaction. (Stubborn even then) Eyeing the door, I knew I had to leave.
His sister hears the commotion, and comes in the room. She drags him to the bathroom to cool off. Once the door closed to the bathroom I didn't hesitate, I pulled on my shoes and ran out the front door as fast as I could in my condition. Running down the hallway, holding my stomach with my hands I dashed towards the stairs. I paused just long enough to push the elevator button to try and confuse him. Hearing him yelling my name from down the hall I hurried around the corner to the stairwell praying he didn't see or hear me. I was breathing very hard by now and sweat was pouring off my face. I had a pain in my chest and a knot buried deep inside me. Pausing a few seconds, I decide which direction to go in. When I felt somebody pull at my hair so hard I felt the pain down to my roots. A scream tore through my lips; tears of pain came out my eyes. My body was twisted at a weird angle as he turns me towards him. Pain rippled across my stomach. I instantly though of you my son, of what you must be going through inside there. I did the only thing I could do, I wrapped my arms around my stomach and prayed; prayed that you would be okay little one. He dragged me down the hallway in that position, until we reached the apartment door. Grabbing a hold of me by my neck, she shoved me inside the door. My front slammed into the wall at the unexpected push. Waves of pain rushed through me. Shoving and pushing me into the bedroom; he threw me on the bed and closed the door.
Stunned at first I laid there for a second catching my breath and letting the pain ease up inside. I got up and checked the door. It was locked; something was jarring it on the other side. I looked around the room; my prison. Opening the blinds a bit, I turned off the light and crawled on the bed, and I sank into my pillows. Pulling my legs up I hugged my stomach and looked at the moonlight coming through the window. I lied there holding you my son, thinking we almost made it. I tried to escape. It could have been worse, much worse. I promise my son one day we will be safe. I promise until then I will protect you no matter what the cost, for you are my precious little one. You are one of the reasons I carry on, living.
There I slept, alone, hurting, crying, locked in my room, with the moon's light as my only company.
Your sharing is truly of light and does not fall on empty hearts.
I shared this to give voice to one who has never spoken out before,
To let her words, tears and pain be heard,
And to try to start healing inside.
It is harder than I thought it would be because I am such a private person.
I am taking it one story, admission and day at a time.
I hope that I can create the courage to complete the read. I think it is important. I think many more here should read to rise above their spiralling morose.
You have more to write. the world, now, has more to read. To learn.
that there is someone out there that shares and knows there pain.
That there is someone here to talk with, who would never judge, and who would listen with an open heart.
Your sharing is truly of light and does not fall on empty hearts.
Thank you though.. Slowly I am letting things out, and facing my past. It is just so very hard.
People say I am so strong, but if they really knew...
I know how hard it is. You are stronger than I...I've only gotten two "real" pieces, and they weren't much.