He was my brother’s friend, i didn't like him but my parents did, they made me serve him dinner. You have to understand i don't want to be here, i didn't want to marry him he was twice my age. He appeared nice on the outside but when we were alone he hit me and, and had his way with me, my brother watched sometimes. I had to marry him, else i would dishonour my parents, i was pregnant, i just want to get away, please let me escape.
I struggled to swallow as I saw his shadow on the wall outside my room, my breath caught in my throat and I shook with fear. I knew what was coming, I dared to hope as I saw another shadow follow his, a hopeless case it was my fathers shadow, the words the words he issued became my death sentence ‘Tammy, you are to marry George in two weeks.’
In those two weeks it was rare that we were alone, so when we were he took full advantage of it.
On my wedding day I wore my mum’s dress, it had no straps and had a flowing skirt as if it was from a fairytale, glancing in the mirror I could almost have said I looked nice if it weren’t for the bruises marking my upper arms and back. I had no veil, no shrug no means of concealing them, my mother had done my make-up before I got changed and had taken the foundation with her.
Tears poured down my face as I tried to find a solution to the problem that would spoil the day for my parents, I didn’t want to marry him but I wanted to dishonour and disappoint my parents even less.
I ended up being married with the bruises showing and when peopled exclaimed I lied ‘I tripped’.
‘Such a shame, you look beautiful otherwise, your cheeks look rosy and your skin peach, a pretty girl when you make an effort.’ Remarked numbers of guests.
My husband and I were left alone after the wedding ‘not pretty enough for me’ I cried as my husband swung at me, I felt my breathing catch in my throat. It hurt but I couldn’t escape, it was my duty to suffer I was his wife.
******************************************************************
Story 2
It's my fault, that’s why he does it, im not pretty enough and I’m not a good enough housewife, if i was pretty he wouldn't make me wear those vile clothes in front of his friends, if i was a good housewife he wouldn't have to go out every night for food and come back drunk, if i was better he wouldn't have to beat me.
I stand shaking as he answers the door, it's them again, i can smell the whiskey on their breath from my place in the corner, he'll entertain them for a while then it's my turn, he's made me change from my tracksuit into a little skirt and waistcoat. ‘Your turn to entertain them’ i know when my husband says those words he does not mean them he simply means they are free to do what they like with me.
They are gone, my lip is bleeding and my arms feel bruised, it is 2.45 he will send me to the shop soon, i will lie to everyone say i fell down the stairs then i will come home and he’ll ask what people said, i'll say ‘nothing’ then he'll take the bottle of vodka i just bought and down it. The screaming will start he'll call me a ‘lying hor’ and he'll pick up a lighter from the table and hold it against my skin, he’ll press his other arm against my chest so my screams of agony will fade as i struggle to breathe. It’s a daily routine. But it's my fault, im not pretty enough, i should be better. I Deserve it.
So when the police come i'll stand in the corner dressed in my dark frumpy clothes, my burns will be hidden, the blood wiped away. the police will question what happened he'll say 'nothing' the police will ask 'what was the screaming' 'i'll say i tripped' they'll say ' so nothing wrong' and i'll say 'nope, no charges to press' and they say 'well as a precaution, sir go take a walk, let of some steam.' so they go and he goes and I’m all alone, wandering if he'll come back apologising or angry.
It’s nothing, it's just another day.
******************************************************************
Story 3
I huddled in the corner afraid to step forward, my husband answered the door, the police couldn’t see the bruises covering my body but they had been called by a neighbour hearing me yell in pain. He told them he had just had a row with his sister about what to do for their mum’s 80th birthday and she’d gone. They told him to go and calm down incase he made the mistake of trying to hurt anyone else, he said ‘there’s no-one here to hurt’ when he was asked who I was he simply replied ‘the woman I love’. I was asked to step into the light I told them I had no complaints and that I’d stay back out of it.
That was the first time but it became a frequent occurrence.
My sister bought me a low back dress for my birthday party and I knew I had to wear it; I wore a small black shrug over the top that covered my arms but still left part of my back showing. My attempts to cover the cuts with concealer failed and only made them sting more. When asked to take my shrug off to show of my dress to my guests I tried to refuse. In the end they won. ‘I fell down the stairs’ I lied as they exclaimed in horror at my bruised arms and back and quickly replaced the shrug. My husband watched all my attempts to hide the truth.
When I got home his face connected with my face shattering my nose, but I was used to it I could feel no pain and no sound issued from me. He kept hitting me to get me to react but I failed to do so. I was left alone. He had gone out to the car yelling that I had ruined his life and he was going to get our 7 year old daughter from the babysitters.
I sat waiting in fear not knowing whether he’d return begging for forgiveness or attack again.
He never came home.
Finally after a 9 year marriage and 5 years of abuse he was arrested but it cost me my daughter’s life. He rap.ed her to hurt me. Now 18 she lives in fear, she has no friends and has never felt love, she can not concentrate and sits locked on her own in a room at the Hotwood institute for mental health. They say she has a severe borderline personality disorder and is too dangerous to socialise. I divorced him and he is free, I hear reports of abuse in the news and wonder if it is him. He should be locked up. I live with my new husband and my twins daughters 5 year old Hali and Natalia. I can not see my eldest daughter and I can not forget the pain, but slowly I have moved on and found love.
Chatboard (0)