Disclosure Statement

The story that follows is meant to reflect a day in the life of a woman living with a typical controlling abuser. I tried to write one short story that would encapsulate all the emotions that years of abuse left me with. I do not wish to offend, or open wounds that have possibly just begun to heal. So beware, if you have experienced domestic abuse, the following story may bring back vivid memories.

Silenced                                                                                                    

It had been a long day, hot and muggy and the baby was teething and had fussed and cried all day. She looked at the clock groaning inside, it was already three o'clock and David would be home soon. Stirring the pot of homemade spaghetti sauce simmering on the stove, she adjusted the flame and began going from room to room. Picking up toys, straightening cushions, polishing little finger prints from tabletops. Checking everything carefully, even though she had spent all day cleaning, she dusted, again. It took her forty minutes to re-do and retouch everything she had done that day.

Going into the babies room, she checked her daughters diaper. Making sure her dress was clean and she smelled baby sweet. She smiled down at her little soft fluff of a baby, and her heart swelled with love, and a sad longing. She picked up the few toys that had gotten tossed out of the playpen and moved on through the house.

Soon her son would come flying through the door, full of news from school, papers, and hungry. How that boy could eat.

She quickly loaded the last of the laundry into the washer and began folding still warm Towels from the dryer.

"BAM"

The front door slammed. She stopped still, listening and Her heart sank, it was to early for Matt. She trembled knowing it was not good when David came home early. She quickly tucked the half-folded laundry into the dryer, and left the laundry room. Reaching the living room door she stopped, and looked around. Calling out softly.

"David, Matt? Is that you?"

No answer.

She whimpered inside like a hurt puppy.

Where was he!?

Her heartbeat jumped, fluttered, and increased its beat. Her eyes darting around like those of a trapped rabbit. On the floor by the door were his lunch kit, and his work jacket thrown on a chair. The hurt puppy noise in her head whimpered louder. He was home early.

She headed across the room towards the kitchen, and then saw him.

He was sitting in the darkened corner of the room, beside the answering machine. He was just sitting; head laid back on the chair, huge rough hands gripping the arms. His face was a mask of dark rage, eyes hard and cold.

She moaned silently, inside herself, thinking, "Now what, Oh God. Now what have I done."

Smiling at him hesitantly she moved towards the kitchen saying, "David, I thought you were Matt. You're home early...."

In a flash he was out of the chair and across the room, grabbing her by her hair. He put his face a bare inch from hers and the sour smell of beer washed over her, gagging her.

His voice was low, deadly cold, "Who called you! Who were you talking to?"

He dragged her to where the answering machine sat.

"You think I'm stupid WHORE? There are three messages and four calls."

She whispered, "No David, No one but you called."

He bellowed into her face, shaking her like a rag doll.

"What did you do all day...sit on your fat ass? Talking to your BOYFRIEND? LOOK AT THIS PLACE!" He began dragging her around the room, pointing out imaginary dust, dirt, kicking tables over, throwing cushions to the floor.  She cried.  She moaned. "No David, that's not true."

He yelled louder, sour spittle spraying her face, " WHORE!" " TRAMP!"

The profanities accented every blow and kick. She started to cry. Even though she knew it would only make him more angry. Her head felt like it was on fire. His rough hands closing around her throat.

"Don't you dare cry you sniveling bitch. What do you have to cry over?"

The baby began to cry in the other room....

She began to sob, and plead, "Please David...they called and hung up, I don't know who it was!" but she did know who, and he knew who.  She begged, " Only you called David, only you and I did clean. David... I did ...please David, please..." Before she could finish his hand flew, slapping her. Then punching. Again, and again, and again.  Her head rang, Her vision dimmed. His hand on her throat tightened, backing her against a wall, squeezing, she couldn't breath...

"I can kill you bitch! "

"I will kill you if I ever catch you screwing around on me, you useless Bitch!"

"You don't know how lucky you are to even have me. Look at all I give you!"

He threw her down on the hall floor, kicking her in the ribs, the stomach, the legs. She curled up into a ball on the floor. Bending over her he yelled, "Your a stupid whore. I know your lazy whore. The world would be better off if you were dead. I would be better off for sure. Your useless!" He reached down and grabbed her by the arm, and began dragging her down the hall, past the baby's room. Her eyes glazed with pain.

"I'll show you what your good for girl, the only thing your good for get up whore...DO ME!!!" Swaying drunkenly he unzipped his pants. She whimpered, trying to get up, blood pouring from her lip, her hand leaving a trail of red along the wall.  Later, when the kids were sleeping, and he lay in a drunken sleep she locked herself in the bathroom seeing her bruised and swollen face and one more broken tooth. Then from the bottle clutched in her hand she took her peace one pill at a time. One last time she cried, not for herself but for the children she left behind.

Sole Property of NightDreams, Copyright :May 1997

Reprint is forbidden without written consent of Author.

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