I envy those people who have something traumatic happen to them and say things like “oh I can barely remember, it’s a blur”. Not for me, for me, it’s a clear vividly horrific memory. Some say having a photographic memory is a gift but it’s my curse.
An hour and a half had gone by. He was pacing. He wasn’t done just interrupted, he clearly wanted to finish what he started. I had called 911 and left the cordless phone on in my pocket so they could hear my cries for help. He heard the annoying buzz landlines make when the phone disconnects. If only I had a cell phone back then.
“Say what you said last time, your kid hit you in the face while y’all were playing”
Last time, how could I forget. He hit my eye and it split open just under my eye brow because my son asked me for eggs and I got up from watching a movie with him to feed my son. He was screaming at me and I kept running from room to room trying to avoid getting hit. The neighbors called the police because they heard the yelling. When the cops came he gave me this look as if to say, “I will kill you and your son if you open your mouth” which also meant my unborn child would die. It just sort of fell out of my mouth, “Me and my son were playing catch and the ball hit my eye” it was so pathetic but, worked. The officer left without another word.
This time though, this time was different. It wasn’t one mark. My entire body was throbbing. I was bleeding from my nose, my mouth, and various other places I hadn’t been able to identify yet. It has started in the bedroom and moved from room to room. I had read weeks before this happened not to ever make your way into a closed area like a closet or a bathroom because, there would be no escape. Remembering important things like that are crucial to survival. I however, did not remember that and found myself in the guest bathroom being punched repeatedly. He held my infant daughter in his arms as he slammed his fist into my face again and again. Red dots were all across her baby pink onesie and on his arms. “Clean us up bitch, now” I can still hear his voice. I quickly grabbed a wash rag and tried to clean my blood off of her but wasn’t successful. I purposely didn’t clean him off instead, I attempted to clean my face but that only angered him more. His hand covered my bloody face and pushed my head back and I fell against the toilet. “Get the fuck up faking ass” he pulled me up by my hair and demanded I clean his arm. After I was done, he threw the rag at my face and said, “NOW clean yourself up bitch” and walked off. That was when he heard the phone go off. He turned around and I saw his eyes go black. He pushed me on the floor with one hand, grabbed the phone from my pocket and threw it at my face. I laid there crying as he sprinted to the bedroom to put the baby down and came back and started pounding on me again. I had only made it to the hallway. I heard her screaming and managed to choke out “please, please let me get her, she is crying, please!” spitting blood as I begged for a brief moment of peace. He stopped and I ran to grab her hoping if he saw her in my hands he would stop.
I sat on the couch with her shushing her and rocking her simultaneously trying to calm her and myself down. *Kim – Eminem*
The banging on the door startled me, when I looked up my eyes met with the fist coming at me. I was holding the baby so I just had to take the hits.
“Did you fucking hear me? The same as last time”
I didn’t even know I was still crying, warm liquids had been flowing from my orifices for so long it was hard to tell what was tears and what was blood. He shook his head enraged and opened the door with the second round of banging knocks.
“Yeah? What do you want OFFICER?” he emphasized the word officer in such a condescending tone which immediately pissed the officer off as he walked in. “I didn’t say you could come in, I know my rights” he said with his chest puffed up. The officer ignored him and he looked in my direction, his eyes widened in horror. Shame and embarrassment came over me like a tsunami. I can only imagine what he was thinking looking at me hold my tiny daughter sprinkled with my blood and me still bleeding adding to my already bloody clothes.
“Ma’am you want to tell me what happened?”
I looked at him and then the officer. He spoke for me “her kid and her were playing and she got hit with a ball” he sounded so fucking stupid saying those words that obviously was a fucking lie. The cop looked at him in disbelief and insulted. The cop told him to stand against the wall and stay quiet. He looked at me again and asked me the same question. I was pulling at the wash rag that was once white but now a reddish-brown from all the blood it had soaked up. Again, he moved towards the cop and tried to speak “look” was all he was able to say before the cop with two moves took him down and had him on the floor to hog tie him. The officer looked at me quickly zip-tying his hands and feet and said, “Ma’am, can you please tell me whats going on here?” I felt my face get hot, and said through tears “please don’t make me say anything in front of him.”
*Can U get away – 2Pac*
Suddenly I was surrounded by police officers and sheriffs, two of which picked him up and dragged him outside. Paramedics walk in my house and I am surrounded being bombarded by questions while someone was taking pictures of my many wounds. I didn’t know who to answer first. So I started talking to the EMT in front of me who was examining my body. I watched as the sheriffs went from room to room in my house looking for some sort of explanation as to why I was beat up so badly. One held my baby girl while one was talking to my son although, I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying due to the overlapping questions flying at me. I glanced up at an officer who happened to be writing down everything I was saying to the EMT. Two sheriffs walk down my hallway to the bathroom where my face broke the phone. I was having flashbacks everywhere they looked and took pictures. It was all happening so fast, it felt like I went deaf from the commotion while I was watching all of their mouths move. Until once sentence broke the silence “It looks like a fucking murder scene in here” one of the officers said to the other as they were walking back from the bathroom. It was so loud it echoed in my head. The same officer stood in front of me and said, “Is this the first or the last time? He WILL kill you next time. Don’t be that girl who gets her kids and herself killed because she doesn’t know when enough is enough”.
I couldn’t breathe hearing the words that came out of his mouth. I started hyperventilating from his truth. He would kill me. He would kill my son. I was sure of it. I felt trapped in my own skin. I just wanted to run so far away from this hell. I needed this nightmare to fucking end. Now.
*Crawling – Linkin Park*