A NEW LIFE - K.W.McNutt (ereader for textbooks txt) 📗

everywhere. The machete was piercing the door like a hot knife through butter. For what seemed like hours, he tormented and tortured my baby and I like we had never been tortured. Time seemed to stand still. The screams from my beautiful baby girl were deafening and all I could do was hold her and tell her that mommy was going to fix this. But how? Then, like the quiet after a storm, it stopped. I looked towards the door and the piercing had stopped. I heard footsteps going down the hallway and then the slam of the front door. Was he gone? Could I risk the chance of coming out into the open? I had to get me and my babies out of here. I had to!
The truck sped out of the driveway like an Indy car on race day. He was leaving. Now was my chance. I grabbed my purse, some baby formula, some change that I had stuck back in a jar and ran out the door. For the time being, I would be safe and so would my innocent babies! I drove like someone had given my car wings. Not knowing where I was going or what I was going to do when I got there. I had nowhere to go but I could not go back to that house anymore. As God as my witness, I will never go back! I had one baby and one on the way. There was no way that I could let him kill my babies. And where were my babies going to be without me? With him. I drove until I felt myself just wanting to end it all.
My family, when I was a young girl, had spent many, many nights at a state park about 35 miles from here. As a child, I remembered, I had seen plenty of hiding places in the deep forests of the state park. I made the twists and turns of the road like I had driven them all my life. It had been years since I had been here but there was nowhere else to go. My baby girl, snuggled into her car seat, wrapped in her favorite blanket and her stuffed monkey at her side, was sound asleep in the back seat. Tears fell down my cheeks like the river that I was driving beside. I had no money other than the change jar that I had grabbed going out the door. I had no food in the car except the formula for my daughter. I had no clothes of my own because I had been too afraid to tarry any longer at the house. I had nothing. Nothing, except my life, my daughter’s life and my unborn baby’s life. I stopped at a little store in the bend of the road, turned off the engine so I didn’t waste what gas I had, and began to sob. The store was open but not busy. I was in the middle of nowhere with nothing. As I sat there, my mind began to race through what had happened over the last 3 years and I knew that my parents had raised me to be a winner. My dad had begged and pleaded with me not to marry that man. Why had I not listened? I had, I thought, knew what I wanted. Was this what I wanted for the rest of my life? My parents had been married to each other for all these years and no one in my family had ever been through a divorce!! A DIVORCE….did that mean I was done with him and his abuse? He would kill me if I tried to leave him. I made my way to a primitive little campground, just off the main road. This would be home for me, my daughter and my unborn child for the time being. I filled the bottle with water from the trunk, mixed in the formula and shook it until it dissolved. I watched the particles float and dissolve, just like my life had been dissolving for the last three years. At that moment, I knelt down and prayed that God would find me and asked him to please keep my babies safe. For three long nights, I slept in the front seat of my car, the windows cracked just enough for some air to flow, with my beautiful daughter laying in the back seat on a blanket, the same blanket that I had grabbed to cover her with in the closet. I woke up on that Monday morning with the sun coming over the treetops like I had never remembered before. I looked back at my daughter and she seemed to be at peace with the world, in the quiet contentment of the silence. The silence that brought me to the realization that she spoke without saying a word. The contentment that she and I could make it without him.
The pains in my belly began to be more consistent. But, it was only January 14th and the baby was not due for another two and a half months. What was wrong with me? I couldn’t be in labor. It was too early. At that moment, I realized that I had escaped the abuse but at what cost? Was God punishing me for leaving my husband and now going to take my child? January 15th, 1982, my baby boy was brought into this cruel world. At only a little over five and a half pounds, he was my child, my beautiful baby boy. He as so tiny and as I looked at him, I could think of nothing but how lucky I was that God has given me these two wonderful children. Children that I knew I would have to raise on my own, with the help of my loving family. That’s right, my family, even after everything that had happened, took me back and tried to make me realize that the abuse was not my fault. The loved me and my babies for who we were. They made no accusations, they made no smart remarks, they loved us, all three of us!
I now had a place of my own, my two wonderful children, still had my job at the factory, and I was beginning to get back on my feet. Until the night he showed up at my apartment. He, again, was drunk and obnoxious. I never realized how much I could despise someone until that moment. He reeked of liquor and was demanding to see “his children.” I made up my mind that I had taken enough! He was not getting into my house, not near my children, and not taking over my life again.
Many, many years later, I now know that what I experienced was what so many families experience every day as well. Unfortunately, domestic violence is the most common reason that women to the emergency room for injury-related treatment. More frequently that auto accidents and rapes combined. Domestic violence affects every religion, every ethnic background, and every socio-economic level. It affects the children and our future. Did you know that over 50% of all homeless women and children in the United States are fleeing domestic violence? The children who witness domestic violence suffer long-lasting psycho-social difficulties. Not only that, it is suggested that about 85% of our prison population comes from a home with family violence. If you just think for a moment, I would venture to guess that every one of you knows someone who is or has been in an abusive relationship.
Statistics show that:
1) One in every four women will experience domestic violence in their lifetime
2) 85% of domestic violence victims are women
3) Domestic violence occurs every 15 seconds in the United States
4) 1.3 million women are victims of physical assault by an intimate partner each year
5) Females age 20 to 24 are at greater risk of nonfatal intimate partner violence
6) Most cases of domestic violence are never reported to the police
So, why did I stay, and why do others stay as well? Most of the time there are many reasons but the most common include these:
1) His violence is only temporary
2) With loyalty and love, she can make him change
3) He promises that it will never happen again
4) It is her responsibility to keep the family together
5) There will surely be more good times to come
Sometimes, she may tell herself:
1.) He needs me
2.) He had a hard life
3.) All men are violent, it is to be expected
There are many forms of abuse and more often than not, they will overlap in some form or fashion. They include, but are definitely not limited to:
1.) Physical assaults
2.) Sexual assault
3.) Psychological abuse
4.) Threats
5.) Intimidation
6.) Emotional abuse
7.) Isolation
8.) Manipulation
9.) Economic control
10.) Destruction of property or pets
The affects on children of domestic violence households are tremendous and are dramatic. When a child and/or children witnesses violence between parents or caretakers, they then become more at risk of transmitting violent behavior from one generation to the next. Boys who witness domestic violence are twice as likely to abuse their own partners and/or children when they become adults. More often than not, an abuser who abuses their partner or spouse will also abuse the children in the household on an average of 30%-60% of the time. Scary isn’t it?
There are things that are noticeable characteristic of an abuser. Some things to watch for and notice of include:
1.) Jealousy
2.) Controlling behavior
3.) Quick involvement
4.) Unrealistic expectations
5.) Isolation of the victim
6.) Blames others for his problems
7.) Blames others for his feelings
8.) Hypersensitivity
9.) Cruelty to animals and/or children
10.) “playful” use of force during sex
11.) Verbal abuse
12.) Rigid sex roles
13.) A Jekyll and Hyde personality
14.) History of past battering
15.) Threats of violence
16.) Breaking or striking objects
17.) Any force during an argument
18.) Objectification of women
19.) Tight control of money and finances
20.) Minimization of the violence
21.) Manipulation through guilt
22.) Extreme highs and lows
23.) Expects her to follow his orders
24.) A frightening rage
25.) Use of physical force
26.) Closed mindedness
There are ways you can help. I want to encourage each and every one of you to take action. Take a step in the right direction to stomp out domestic violence. If you don’t feel that it affects you, you might need to take a second look at the way you live. Are you or someone in your family in an abusive relationship or in an abusive family? If not, what have you got to lose? NOTHING!! You might ask, “What have you got to gain?” You could gain a person in society that appreciates what is right and wrong, a sister or brother and maybe even a dear friend.

Remember these simple things:
1.)Show you care.
2.)Let them talk, confidentially, about the situation without judgment. You may be the only person whom she feels comfortable talking to.