“All My Fault”

“It’s your own fault!”

“No!” she screamed. “Stop! You’re hurting me!” She ran into the bedroom to try to close the door but he was already there, foot in the way.

He pushed his way through the entrance and threw her on the bed. Looking at her in disgust, he grabbed the jewelry box off the dresser and whipped it at her head.

Gold trinkets scattered around her. Sparkling gems winked happily oblivious to the negative energy surrounding them. She lay immobile waiting for the next attack, but he had enough for the moment. “Maybe these can fix the ugliness of you.” he spat at her as he slammed the door behind him.

Whimpering, she lay there waiting to see if he would return. When he didn’t, she attempted to move and try to pick up her jewelry. None of her good items were here. She had filled it with cheap things because she knew at some point he would throw it. Sooner or later everything ended up being thrown at her.

Putting the jewelry box back in its place she debated waiting around to see if he would attack again or venturing out to see if she could placate him. This was one of the better days. He hadn’t been as vicious as usual. Today he was only throwing small items not intended to cause serious pain.  If only she had remembered to pick up milk before coming home from work …

She knew if she did the wrong thing he would be angry with her. If she didn’t wait here to service him when he demanded it, he would be upset. But, if she didn’t go out to fix him a meal when he wanted it, he would be upset too. It seemed no matter what she did it would be wrong.

Bravely she ventured out. The apartment was silent, which was a bad thing. She tiptoed slowly toward the kitchen to see what she had she could use for a meal for them. He was standing there. She had never seen that look before.

Until now he had only yelled at her and threw things when he got mad. There was that one time he grabbed her arm and threw her across the room, but it was an accident. He apologized and said he didn’t mean it. And the time he poured the hot coffee on her chest because she hadn’t disrobed fast enough when he wanted her in bed. That had been her fault. She knew he wanted her to move faster.

He never meant it when he did those things. He was always sorry and apologized. Maybe if she wasn’t so slow and stupid and ugly he wouldn’t do those things. It was her fault. But she could change. She was trying to do things his way.

“What would you like for dinner?” she asked him timidly, afraid to speak with any kind of tone, in case he took it wrong.

“I don’t think you have to worry about dinner tonight.” He spoke in a monotone, something he had never done before. Her heart raced but she kept her tone light.

“Aren’t you hungry?”

He never bothered to answer because she wouldn’t hear it anyway. Her screams filled the apartment house as the scalding water he tossed covered her head, bubbling on her skin turning it red.

__________

“Officer, it was an accident. She frightened me while I was boiling water to clear a slow drain. I reacted without thinking and my arm swung the kettle and the water hit her. I didn’t mean it.”

__________

She stayed. Of course he didn’t mean it. Didn’t he take care of her, bandaging her burns? Wasn’t he cooking dinner now for both of them since she couldn’t? The officers saw nothing wrong. They didn’t take him away…

… and the cycle starts again…

The Cycle of Abuse …