The abused

February 6, 2009
By Anonymous

I grabbed my Nike bag and my old basketball and raced out the door. I was so excited to go home. My mom had promised me that we would go out tonight. This might sound like nothing but my mom isnt always around so i dont get to see her that much. Even thought this was going to be a great day it turned out to be my worst nightmare.

I walked through the door and slowly taking my jacket off i set my bag down. i heard faint yelling coming from the kitchen,then a bang,then a clash. I closed the door so it wouldnt make a slamming noise. I walked up to the corner i took two deep breaths then took a step forward. A loud sound came from under my shoe. It was a piece of a beer bottle. Then thats when the thoughts started racing. i went around the corner the image i was about to see it would never be erased from my mind.

There was my mom pulling herself up by grabbing the counter top wth one hand the other was trying to put pressure on her leg that was bleeding immensly. She had a long cut over her left eyebrow. Then there was my dad with a white,dirty,blood stained t-shirt. It had three wholes in it. The one on his shoulder was huge it accented his big scratch in the middle of it. Out of nowhere my dad lifts the beer bottle raised the beer bottle. By then my mom had pulled herself up, turned around, opened the cabinet, gravved the pile of plates and starts chucking them at my dad. Once she ran out of plates she yelled and then sank to the floor crying. She landed into spilt beer. There were so many broken beer bottles and puddles of spilt beer i couldnt count them all. The counters overflowed with broken pieces of beer bottles and useless spilt puddles of beer. My dad stumbling over to my mom he violently grabbed her shoulder then raised the beer bottle over his head. I couldnt watch another heartbreaking second of it. Uncontrably i screamed. "Dad please dont! Don't touch her! Why are you fighting? Why?" I busted into tears.

I ran over to my dad. I grabbed the beer bottle out of his hands and threw it to the ground. I relentlessly tried to talk him out of whatever he was going to do next. He had this look in his eyes i will never be able to forget. It was a mix between shear rage and heartbrokeness. He looked at my mom and slammed me aside i hit the refrigerator handle. I sank to the floor my back hurt so bad. It took my breath away i couldnt breath for 30 seconds. He stumbled back to my mom I crawled over to my mom and sat in front of her. Beggingly wit tears running down my face i histerocially said "Dad please stop! Please! Dad! Dad! Stop!"

This look came over his face. Tears started running down his face. I dont know what came over him. I think he relized what he had done. He stumbled out of the room. He had ran into the wall and broke my moms vase. He headed for the stairs. He hung his left arm over the rail like it needed amputated or something there was was a long,deep cut down the side he used his right arm to pull his weakened body up the steps. After my dad had reached his room i turned to my mom. She was sunked in the corner were the two cabinets met. There was blood everywhere. My mom had already started brusing they were big discolored patches on her face. She looked like was on a poster for a horror movie. I didnt know what to do she needed help but I remained quiet. Everything scared me at this point. The only thing i could think to do was to run as fast as could up the stairs.Without paying attention to the steps I stumbled on the unfinished carpet on our stairs and cut my right leg. The blood started to pour ammensly out of my leg so I grabbed my cut and limped up the last two stairs. I made it two my bedroom and fumbled in my dresser for a shirt to wrap around my leg. Once I found one I wrapped it around and immediatly started to apply pressure to it. At first, it took the breath out of me. Then slowly i got used to it.

After awhile, my legged finally stopped bleeding it was no longer classified as a cut it was a gash it made my stomach turn everytime i had even thought about it. I went into my room. I laid down on the bed my rib cage hurt just as much as my back did. I slowly got off my bed taking deep, faint breaths in and out. Tears ran down my cheecks. I turned my back to my mirror and slowly raised my shirt up as far as my arms would let me there was a bruise that looked just like the refrigerator handle. The pain was all i could think about. Then i thought to myself if i was in this much pain how is my mom? How is my dad?

I wanted to see how they were doing. So I slipped out of my room. I was still breathing hard. The first room I was going to check was my mom and dads. The door was hardly cracked open. I looked in, my dad had passed out left arm that had blood all over it hung off to the side of the bed. I still was breathing hard. After i saw him I walked over to the top of the staircase. I went down three stairs. I saw a glimsp of my moms face. It startled me then i started to run. I ran back in to my room breathing really hard, now. After I caught my breath again i walked back down to the top of the staircase. I slowly walked down the steps my breath was in sync with each stair i went down;I paused. My mom was sitting at the dinning room table. She had the bills all spread about the table she picked up a piece of paper it had blood smuged at the top of the paper. She looked up and thats when i saw my mom's face. There was a gash on her forhead. It was covered by gauz. It had bled through. She had a bruise the size of my dads hand on her right cheek. This was the scariest thing ive ever seen.

I had finally made it down all the stairs, I went around the corner. As i was turning around the corner and i bumped the vase that was still in one piece. Thankfully i caught it. I now had my moms full attention. She had a confused look on her face. I guessed that she relized that i was walking funny. Without skipping a beat she said "Why are you walking funny?" Then that very moment she had remembered what my dad had done then she said "Come here. I want to see your back."

I backed up a few feet. Then i replyed "No im fine; really im ok. How are you? I came down to check on you. Dad passed out."

"Would you just let me see. I will heal in a few days. Your dad needed rest; thats a good thing.Would you please let me look?"She replyed back in a caring way.

"Ok. Ok, but please be careful..." Before i could finish my sentence she pulled my shirt. My eyes got big and I replied with a girlish scream. She touched my bruise then i screamed again. I almost cried it hurt so bad.

"We need to take you to the the doctor. This looks really bad." She sounded worried.

"What? Why? Theres no reason for that im fine it stopped bleeding, its all good now i swear. Just please dont make me go there im okay?" I blabbered on. Then my mom gave me this look. I saw she was having trouble with making it because her hand quivered afterwards.

After clearing her throat she stumbled the words out of her mouth" We both need to go. How is your back?" The look on her face was pure concern. I wanted to act like i didnt hear that question. I looked around trying to put off awnsering the question as long as possible.

Then I replied"Its fine." I knew she knew that i was lying. I couldn't pull it off it felt like the pain was screaming at me. I wish i could lie better. I didnt want to show that i felt pain. The look of remorse melted down her face. Sometimes I had wished that i was oblivious earlier that night like i had treated like it was nothing to worry about but, my curiosity powered me to look around that corner. The cracking of the beer bottle under my shoe drove me to help my mom out and to convince my dad to not beat my mom to death. Theese are the type of memories that will never be erased from my head. Before i knew it my mom was grabbing my shirt and pulling it up. Tears ran down my face.

My mom freaked"Oh my god, you need ice now! Go lay down on the couch!" She rushed in the kitchen and grabbed a bag I could hear her scraping the ice out of the ice bucket. I was afraid of what my back looked like. I'm sure it wasn't pretty. My mom rushed back in the room i wasn't about to look at her face. It tore me up in side to see the scratches, bruises and the blood that had bled through the guaz. All i really wanted to do was cater to her but, i knew better than that. My mom was the type of person that had convinced herself that catering to other people was much more important than catering to her. One of my moms tears had landed on my back. My mom sniffled then wiped the tear off my back. My eyes watered and then tears started rolling down my face. I reached for the ice bag and i sat up. With tears still rolling i hugged my mom. Thats when my mom broke down the first time i had ever seen my mom cry.

"Mom" I paused waiting for her response.

"Yeah" she wiped a tear off my face.

"Can you stay in my room for tonight" I replied back with a shakey voice.

"Sure honey. Lets go upstairs and get some rest." We walked up the stairs arms around each other using each others strength to climb up the stairs. Its probably the closest we have ever been. Why is it that bad things have to happen to relize that what you have is a necessity for getting through everyday? Or that just relizing what you have is everything you need?

From that point on me and my mom were inseperable. She was my best friend all over again. My dad moved out after that. We all have dinner one day out of the week. Hes going through rehab and we all had scars to remember that night. It was a reminder of what we had gone through that night. We had promised ourselves and each other that would never happen again. We all went to family counsling together two nights out of the week. Some day we all be back together again as a family.

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This article has 1 comment.

on Jul. 6 2011 at 12:59 am
_Maddieb PLATINUM, Carlisle, Ohio
20 articles 0 photos 31 comments

Favorite Quote:
How will you ever reach the stars ; if you're too afraid to try.

You are so brave. I know how horrible that stuff is. I went through many things the same. Stay strong. You have an amazing story.

Parkland Book