By Beverly Brown
I was on my second cup of coffee as I sat down at the kitchen table. The sun was shining bright and the birds were singing a pretty tune. Nate was upstairs getting ready for work and doing his usual morning complaining about how he hates his job and he can’t find a matching pair of socks. I got up from the table and started cooking him some breakfast.
“Cynthia, I told you to start rolling my socks together so they would stay matched properly. Why don’t you ever listen?” He growled.
I stayed quiet before an argument ensued. I kept on frying his eggs, not saying a word.
I reached into the cupboard and grabbed a plate. I didn’t quite have a good enough grip on it and it slipped through my fingers and fell into a million tiny pieces onto the floor.
Nate walked over to me and grabbed my shoulder roughly. He put his hands around my neck like he was going to choke me and got up in my face. “Those were my grandmother’s dishes Cynthia. Why are you so clumsy?” He asked with anger in his voice.
I was shaking all over as his grip was getting tighter and tighter around my neck. He took his other hand and wailed me across the face. “You’re no good! You’re just no good!” He yelled.
I reacted to his outburst in strength. “It was an accident Nate. I didn’t mean for it to happen.” I quickly replied.
He let go and pushed me and when he did I hit against the counter. My body was trembling as I reached for another plate. I grabbed it with both hands, as I was not sure I would be able to hold it with one. I carefully put his eggs onto the plate and buttered his toast. Nate sat down at the table and I handed him his plate of food. He had a disgusted look on his face when he saw his breakfast. He quickly sat up and pushed his plate of food across the table. His toast went flying across the room and yet another one of his grandmother’s dishes fell to the floor in a million pieces. He grabbed his jacket from the closet. “Why can’t you ever do anything right Cynthia?” he stammered as he flew out the door slamming it as hard as he could behind him.
I sat down at the table and cupped my face into my hands and just cried. Why does he say such mean things to me? Why is he always putting me down? What have I done to deserve any of this? All these questions raced in my mind. I didn’t have answers for any of them. My self-esteem had disappeared. I just wanted out. Nothing I did was right for him anymore. I just couldn’t understand how someone could hurt another person without any remorse.
I got up and grabbed the broom and started cleaning up all the broken glass. I walked over to the mirror and saw his handprint on my face. My right eye was black and blue. His words just echoed in my head that I was no good. I started to feel that way. We used to be happy and now he feels I never do anything right. I didn’t know what I was doing wrong or even how to fix it.
I went upstairs and just stared into my dresser mirror. I stared down at my left hand where remained the wedding ring Nate gave me three years ago. I took it off and laid it on the dresser without thinking twice. I jumped in the shower with hope I would feel better afterwards.
That night when Nate got home he brought me flowers. He kissed my neck the way he used too. He brushed my hair back out of my eyes as tears filled his. “I love you so much Cynthia. I just got a little upset. You know what I mean? I know you understand because you always do. I’m just under a lot of stress baby. You know what I mean?”
I was so upset with him but happy that he still loved me. I shook my head as a tear rolled down my cheek.
“Why don’t you go change your shirt and I will take you out tonight?” he asked.
“I’d like that” I replied with a half smile on my face.
So I went upstairs to change. I put on the shirt that Nate always liked so well on me. When I finished I walked downstairs and he had my jacket ready for me to put on. As I put my left hand through the arm he noticed my wedding ring was gone.
“Your ring Cynthia? Where is your wedding ring?” He frantically asked.
My heart started to race as I tried to think quickly on why I took it off. I couldn’t think of any good reason. “It’s upstairs, let me go get it.” I said.
I started to walk up the stairs when he pulled me back. He pulled on the back of my head and squeezed my wrist as tight as he could. It felt like he was going to break it.
“You are never to take that ring off as long as you are my wife! This proves you are not loyal to me Cynthia and I don’t like that!” He yelled in his deep voice.
He pushed me to walk up the stairs to where the ring was. He put it back on my finger and threw me on the bed. He swipes his arm across the dresser pushing everything onto the floor. He took down the wedding picture of us and hurled it to the floor, breaking it. He pulled out the bat that was in the closet and started to come for me. I jumped off the bed, and screamed, “No! Nate No!”
I kept screaming as I got to the top of the stairs. I heard someone knocking at the door and I started to yell, “Come in, help me please!”
Nate came up from behind me and in self-defense I tried to knee him. My foot slipped on the top step and I fell down the stairs. I lay there unable to get up crying in fear and in pain as I heard someone kick open the front door. In came my neighbor, Darius and he wrestled Nate to the ground. He punched him so Nate is unconscious and he ran over to me.
“Are you OK? I’m calling an ambulance.” He grabbed the phone and dialed 9-1-1. Still unable to really speak I looked at him. He kneeled down next to me and held my hand until the ambulance arrived.
When they got there Darius told the first-repsonder what he had seen. He heard me screaming and knew something was wrong. By the time he told his story I was able to tell them mine. They hauled Nate off to jail and Darius rode in the ambulance with me to the hospital. From that moment on I was grateful that someone was there.
Editor’s note: Beverly Brown of Presque Isle is a freelance writer. If you or someone you know is a victim of domestic violence, please don’t be afraid to call for help. You can call the local Hope and Justice project at 207-764-2977 or call toll free at 1-800-439-2323.
