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The First Day [LEWC]

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posted on Jul, 8 2012 @ 07:35 PM
Words fail to describe the depth of love for the dark-haired pubescent beauty sleeping fitfully in her arms, flesh of her flesh, blood of her blood.

Side by side they lay, mother and child, upon a pink coverlet trimmed with white lace. Stuffed animals stood watch in this barricaded child's room, as if a mere dresser could prevent him entry should he be of a mind. In a protective gesture she wrapped her arms around the young girl, all the while wondering exactly what lessons she was teaching.

The entirety of her body was wracked with pain, her head pounding and her vision blurred, a result of the beating she had just endured for nearly an hour straight. Although beaten with frequency, she knew not their tally: nevertheless, tonight was different than any come before, for tonight the presence of her daughter caused her to turn, and she witnessed his transformation.

Crouched fetal, forearms protecting face, she pressed deep into the corner. Blow upon blow rained upon her back and head for the mere infraction of succumbing to hunger at midnight, rather than continue the required wait for his return to share the evening meal together.

"Stop, Daddy, Stop! Your hurting Mommy! Stop!" yelled the young girl in dismay as she ran into the master bedroom.

Shhh. Run go hide before he notices you, the woman thought, trying to project the words into the mind of the child. Fear of drawing her husband's attention to the presence of the girl prevented her from giving the words any voice.

Never hearing the screaming of her mother's soul, the girl jumped onto the back of her father in an attempt to pry him off her mother.

"No!" The woman screamed, but too late, as the man had already taken hold of the girl and threw her across the room, the young hitting the far wall with a thud. He returned his full attention once more upon the woman, and resumed the beatings. Thank god, the woman thought, just ignore her, please just ignore her!

At last, when more than a couple seconds passed without another punch, the woman quickly turned in order to make her move to protect the young girl, fearing her daughter was next.

What she saw in that moment of her turning stopped her cold. A dazed look of complete confusion was crossing the man's face, and he shook his head slightly as if clearing cobwebs from the depths, and for all she could decipher, he appeared as a man not knowing how he came to be in this time, in this place.

Taking full advantage of his momentary mental lapse, she jumped up and went after the girl at a run, dragging her out of the room and into the girl's room located down the hall, where they were now barricaded.

As she lay beside her daughter, her minds eye flashed to all those moments when his eyes changed just before he beat her and the full realization of the situation hit her like a freight train.

He doesn't even realize what he is doing after rage overcomes him, she thought.

He will kill me one day, and nothing I can do will be able to prevent it. Who would protect her then? she wondered. What am I teaching her when I allow this to continue? When I teach her to hide, I am only teaching her weakness, the woman decided. What kind of a life will she accept as normal, if I don't teach her what strength is?

Painfully, the woman extracted herself from the bed, and moved as quietly as possible, the dresser away from the door. Looking back once more on the still sleeping girl she then left the room, shutting the door behind her.

With a cup of coffee and a kiss she woke her husband, and helped him to get ready for work. Just another day, like the thousands which came before. Patiently, she watched as his car disappeared down the road, and turning, she went back into the house.

As the golden rays of the new day began forcing the night's retreat, she picked up the phone, finally dialing the number.


"Hello, is this the safe house for battered women?"

"Yes it is, may I help you?"

"Yes ma'am, yes, you may."

Sunlight was pouring in the window to the girl's room as she opened the door. Silently she vowed as she looked upon the sleeping child to never again teach weakness. A smile crossed her face as she began shaking this young girl awake, saying "Good morning sweetie! Today is the first day of the rest of our lives! Let's hurry."

edit on 8-7-2012 by OpinionatedB because: (no reason given)

posted on Jul, 8 2012 @ 08:12 PM
reply to post by OpinionatedB

That is an amazingly powerful story. That must have hurt to write. SnF.

It also goes miles to show your real character, and I'm glad you got out of such a horrible marriage. If there's one thing in the universe that's unjust, it's domestic violence. Often unreported, it's a voiceless crime that ruins self-esteem and haunts the victims. Kudos to you for getting that off you chest.

posted on Jul, 8 2012 @ 08:26 PM

Originally posted by Druid42
reply to post by OpinionatedB

That is an amazingly powerful story. That must have hurt to write. SnF.

It also goes miles to show your real character, and I'm glad you got out of such a horrible marriage. If there's one thing in the universe that's unjust, it's domestic violence. Often unreported, it's a voiceless crime that ruins self-esteem and haunts the victims. Kudos to you for getting that off you chest.

It goes unreported in usually the most severe cases of domestic violence. It is because she believes her husband when he tells her he will kill her if she leaves or if she calls the police.

Not reporting also makes it much more difficult to prove in court. My divorce took almost two years, I was trying for sole custody of my daughter, but without even one police report to show a pattern of abuse, proving him to be a danger to her was a battle in and of itself.

The day I went to the safe house I was hospitalized for several days, I had a concussion and my entire back was a giant bruise with some internal bleeding as well. That was the first police report I ever made, even though there had been multiple hospitalizations, I never reported it quite simply because of fear. I stayed because of fear.

I left when I realized there was nothing I could do to stop him from killing me. I always thought if I was better, if I was smarter, if only I didn't make so many mistakes to make him angry... it was that day I realized it never was my fault, and that nothing I could do would prevent him from some day killing me.

The people at the safe house were a huge help, and the psychiatrist and guardian ad lidem all were responsible for it turning out the way it did for me and my daughter. Without the first (safe house) I could not have left, or my leaving would have put all our lives in danger. And without the last two (psychiatrist and guardian ad lidem) my daughter would not have been legally protected from her father.

Thanks for your comments and thank you for the compliment

posted on Jul, 8 2012 @ 10:11 PM
Thank you for the invite to the thread and a great read as well.

Powerful imagery and a circumstance that many can relate to.

Thank you,



posted on Jul, 8 2012 @ 10:16 PM
reply to post by jude11

I thought it went kind of well with your thread on domestic violence.

I am glad you enjoyed it. Thank you for the compliment.

posted on Jul, 8 2012 @ 11:12 PM
These stories in this current contest have been so powerful, so emotional, that I've just been flagging and starring. Anything I say pales in comparison to the words written with such candor.

But I had to comment on this one.

I imagine that it was painful to write. Thank you for sharing such an intimate glimpse, and for illustrating that true bravery doesn't always take place on the battlefields.


posted on Jul, 8 2012 @ 11:23 PM
reply to post by beezzer

thanks Beez, that means a lot.

posted on Jul, 8 2012 @ 11:30 PM
Powerful story! Thank goodness you took the first step, and got out of that hellish situation. There seems to be a stigma associated with reporting spousal abuse or any form abuse within the family? I don't know why that is. I am glad you found help. Hopefully, your story can help others to take the leap and escape abuse. The world can be a cold, dark, and bitter place.

posted on Jul, 8 2012 @ 11:40 PM
reply to post by Jakes51

My ex husband broke my nose when my father was still alive. It was one of the first hospitalizations I ever had, because it was not just broken, it was completely crushed (and under my left eye) and required 10,000 dollars worth of plastic surgery to make it look the same again.

My father asked me then if my husband had done it, and stated that if he had he and my brother would come rectify the problem (the problem being my husband)

I lied to my father then, first because i did not want anything bad to happen to my father should he come and kill my husband (which I certainly did not put past my father) and second because at that time I could not look my father in the eyes and tell him I had made a really big mistake.

The marriage had been my choice, and admitting it was a bad one, especially to my father, was just something I couldnt do at the time. My father died shortly after that, so when things became even worse I had no one in the world who could help me.

I do not think that it is always looked down upon in the family, I think many woman are unwilling sometimes to admit to failure.
edit on 8-7-2012 by OpinionatedB because: (no reason given)

posted on Jul, 9 2012 @ 12:02 AM
reply to post by OpinionatedB

There is nothing worse in this world than a man that abuses their wife or children. It is an abomination! It takes a lot of courage what you did. Sometimes discussing our problems with strangers can be the best alternative. Our family members tend to see things quite differently than we do, and it is not that they don't care.

I think they just don't understand that someone that was around for dinners, for family events, and welcomed into the family could one day turn into a monster. I think the utter shock sets in, and it renders them to nothing more than a deer in headlights. Not all in our families are like that, but some are. There is really no right or wrong way to handle a situation as traumatizing as yours. There is really just the action of handling it, and escaping it. Get out, and let the chips fall where they may.
edit on 9-7-2012 by Jakes51 because: (no reason given)

posted on Jul, 9 2012 @ 12:13 AM
reply to post by Jakes51

I agree!

And thank you for your comments btw.

That is the reason I wrote the story, I had been sitting there watching my daughter sleep, and i thought, if there is one story i should tell that might help someone else, it would be this one.

Its difficult, and very scarey, but leaving and as you said letting the chips fall where they may, is the only choice. Staying is really not an option, the men who do this are very sick, and very very dangerous.

posted on Jul, 9 2012 @ 04:39 AM
That was just... well, a very powerful, incredible read. I don't really know what else to say, perhaps one of the most emotionally powerful stories I have ever read, and that is being 100% honest.

All I can say is your strength is incredible. I have seen spousal abuse cases before, and couldn't even begin to imagine the terror at the time.

Well done, S&F

posted on Jul, 9 2012 @ 07:46 AM
reply to post by OpinionatedB

This was a very moving and gripping story and I'm so happy you exposed the problem and the way to achieve its resolution.

While I was never beaten, there were times after alcohol-induced threats that I was seized with fear to the point of near paralysis, certain that any movement on my part whatsoever (even changing my gaze) would push him into action. So I can truly relate to that numbing fear. I can further relate to trying to project thoughts to the children and praying for them to stay in their rooms. Kudos to you. Well done.

posted on Jul, 20 2012 @ 08:46 PM
Wow, how did you even put words to this?! You should become a speaker to the abused. I am beginning to think that the SS threads are the best thing ATS has to offer.

Well done.

posted on Jul, 24 2012 @ 12:28 AM
reply to post by Doodle19815

Thank you for the compliment. As far as it being hard to write... lol... with a lot of tears I wrote this.

But I have to admit, I am a writer not a speaker. I could not much imagine speaking publicly.
edit on 24-7-2012 by OpinionatedB because: (no reason given)

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