Love Kills Slowly

February 16, 2011
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Every one will find that special someone some day, might be tomorrow, could be in twenty years. But when she found her special someone in 2002, I didn’t know what to think. She met him in a gas station one day when I was with my grandparents in Freeport. She was in Bath, right across from his apartment. When I came home two days later, he was there. He was a big man, with dark hair, and a tiny apartment by the bay. I was six. I took one long look at him, and I knew I was gonna hate him. His brown eyes stared at me with a big grin on his face saying, “ I don’t bite.” I ran to my room crying my eyes out. It was a stream rushing down my cheeks. I didn’t want to look at his face again. She came to my room rubbing my back as I laid with my stomach on the soft bunk-bed, socking the bed sheets. She asked me to give him a chance, but I couldn’t. I knew something would go wrong.
It was my seventh birthday and I got alone great with his three daughters. The middle one was my best friend. She had long brown hair and bright green eyes. The oldest one was really quiet, the youngest was annoying. I didn’t want to leave the girls, just him. Few weeks later, he proposed. My eyes were wider than my face. I didn’t want to believe it. She said yes. I fell to the floor in a deep sleep. My nightmare was coming true.
July came around and she was beautiful. A white wedding by the ocean with al our friends and family. Everyone was happy but me. I tried to put a smile on my face but you could plainly see it was fake. I did end up laughing when a hornet was in her vail. But he started laughing too and my smile turned to a frown. His laugh made me sick. It was the worst laugh ever. At the reception, I told her she shouldn’t do this, I didn’t like him and that he would hurt one of us some day. She didn’t listen to me. She just said, “ Sweetie, I can’t talk right now, I just got married to the man I love”. I was so upset. I knew he was a drinker, but it was worse at the party. At the wedding alone, he alone had a whole thirty pack of beer. I thought to myself; How could it get any worse.
About a year later, in the middle of July, her and I went shopping with one of her friends. He didn’t like her friend. He didn’t even like her family. I didn’t like his family either. They were mean, and stupid. It was about three hours later when we got back to the apartment, he wasn’t home yet. We figured he was still at work. Wrong again. He was at a bar in Portland. He came home around nine thirty, drunk. He asked when we got home and she told him around eight-ish. He wasn’t happy. He looked at my mother with such anger in his eyes. The dark eyebrows came down to his knees. I was in their room, watching it all happen. He clasped her by her right arm and shouted in her face. I could feel his breath slam into my face all the way across the apartment. It smelt of beer and other alcoholic drinks. His eyes steaming with anger. They turned a bright red as if he were going to set the building on fire. She screamed at the fist coming towards her face. She ducked out of the way but he grabbed her shirt and tore it off her chest. Trying to get away, she turned her head and he grabbed her glasses. He tried crushing them with his hands but instead he threw them against the wall. He kicked, and threw his arms at her. I didn’t know what to do or think. All I knew was that I was in shock. When she got away she ran towards me as quickly as she could, limping. Unable to cry, unable to move, unable to think, I couldn’t do anything. She practically dragged me out of the apartment as he punched holes in the walls and broke the dinning room table. Last thing I saw was him take his wedding ring and throw it down the sink.
She carried me out to the car that was parked in front of our apartment. She placed me in the back passenger seat and got in the front drivers seat. “ May I sit in front with you?” “ Yes!” she cried. “ Please do. I need someone to be up here with me.” I crawled my way up to the front passenger seat. We started to take off slowly, I saw the front door open from the apartment. He came running down the stairs. I screamed at the fist that was aiming from my window. She stepped on the gas as I turned my head away from the window. He didn’t hit my window. He hit the back window. Glass flew into my hair. I can still feel it peal past the back of my head leaving marks that may last forever. I lifted my head back up as we sped off down the road. We made our way to the police station and ran inside to the front desk. She hardly able to speak, told the whole story. I wasn’t saying, or doing anything. Just letting the tears flow gently out of my eyes. We sat down in the waiting seats as the police took off in three cars. One police officer stayed with us. Myself in shock, and herself unable to breathe. After an hour, she caught her breath. “ I’m so sorry I put you through this. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you. Please forgive me.” The tears streaming down her face. I looked at her and said in a low whisper, “ I don’t know.” She planted her face in my shoulder and let all teas leak onto my favorite purple shirt.
Three years past, and she finally got the divorce finalized. To this day, I only see his in stores or driving by in cars. Now she is remarried and happy. But I will never forget that night. The night, loved killed my family. The night loved killed me.

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l.iney said...
Mar. 11, 2011 at 2:49 pm

This is such a great writing piece and I can barely think of how scared you must have been and how hard it must have been to write this. I'm happy to know that your mom is happily remarried now

please check out some of my stuff your an amazing writer and i would like your feedback greatly

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