A Very Sad Reality….

You’re locked in the bathroom; you can hear him coming.  The sound of his feet on the floor as his comes down the hallway.  Knowing he’s coming.  Knowing it won’t turn out well.  You think about fighting but you know you can’t win.  You think about running but you know he will find you.  There are others to protect, but you can’t even protect yourself.  There’s no way to win, there’s no way to fight; there’s no escape.

The screaming begins… the anger… the threats.  He’s going to kill you.  He’s going to hurt you.  What can you do?  There’s no defense.  How did this happen, you were safe and happy just minutes ago?  Where did things go south.  How did this happen?

The door-handle rattles… he’s found you.  The pounding begins, will he break it down or move on.  You plead, you cry, you beg to be left alone.  You didn’t mean to be here.  You didn’t mean to make him angry.  What did you do?  How did this happen?

He’s a stranger.  You don’t know him.  What does he want from you?  There’s no escape, you can’t fight.  It wasn’t supposed to be this way… life wasn’t supposed to be this way.  Why are you staying here… where can you go?

You don’t deserve this… yes you do.  You chose to be here.

It’s your fault…  He told you so.

You’re useless… he told you so.

You are worthless… he told you so.

Nobody else wants you… he told you so.

You are crazy… he told you so.

He’s a good man… when he’s sober.

He treats you well… most of the time.

He says he loves you… the last time he apologized.

It’s my fault… he told me so.

The pounding stops… he gives up.  He never gives up when he’s like this.  Maybe he passed out.  Maybe he changed his mind.  You call out… “are you okay?”

You care about him; he wasn’t always like this.  He’s not always like this.

The silence is worse than the screaming.  Where has he gone?  What is he doing?  What is that scraping at the door?

I should have had dinner ready… this is my fault.

I should have thanked him for supporting me… this is my fault.

I shouldn’t have mentioned his drinking… he drinks because of me… this is my fault.

I should have laid there as he grunted like a rutting animal using my body to deposit his load… this is my fault.

Now he’s going to have my body anyway… I can’t stop him… I shouldn’t stop him… this is my fault.

Maybe he won’t hit me in the face this time.  The bruises are easier to hide under clothing… this is my fault.

*

Somewhere in the world, as you read this, is a woman living in fear.  Odds are extremely good you know one.  It’s not about social class, race, or religion.  It’s about power and dominance.  Somewhere there is a woman blaming herself for the actions of her husband/boyfriend.  She’s afraid; she’s confused; she’s blaming herself; she’s a victim; she needs help.  Will you be the one to help her escape?

F.B.O.M. is coming in August.  Be sure to get your copy as soon as it’s available… stay tuned!