Before the situation escalated, my teacher carried on with her lesson to diffuse the tension in class. Though the confrontation was brief, it sent a stinging and powerful message to the bullies; I was no longer fazed by their name-calling and degrading remarks as I had become impervious to any diabolical plans hatched by them. School was stressful but more bearable since the incident. I felt lighter and it was easier to breathe because I was no longer carrying my cumbersome bag of worries with me. That day, I felt that I finally caught the ball in the game ‘monkey in the middle’.
He then slapped me and said, “ you're no one to tell me what I can and cannot do in my own home”. I had ran inside the home as, I felt humiliated because this incident happened to be witness by his family. After a short while, his aunt had come into the home and approach me, she had ask what why I was hit. She informed me that they did not want to get involved because it was between my husband and I. She had also informed me that the family were leaving in order for us to resolve our issues.
A beast like man followed her with threatening footsteps. He grabbed her hair forcing her to make eye contact “YOU ARE USELESS”, he spat out, misting her face with saliva. Her red satin gown, slowly became darker and darker as the blood continued to soak it. She spoke out with defiant whisper “Maybe I am not the problem”. He fiercely whipped his hand back and smacked her with all his might, leaving an intimidating red mark.
(An abused mother) He came rushing from the adjoining room towards me. He pressed his hand on my face and hit my head. The strength of the beats ripped off my glasses from my head. I begged him whimpering. He was stopped by our nine year old daughter who started to scream in the hall saying stop it!
She mentioned that her father was treating them badly, and torturing her mother and her sister. I felt sorry for her because she told me that one day, she had witnessed her father yelling at her mother for some money to buy alcohol. At that time, her mother was screaming and crying, as she couldn’t tolerate being hit by him. Then her mother took her daughters and ran away to her grandmother’s house. Till one day, the father showed up at the grandmother’s house.
I stomp my feet up the stairs and head to my bedroom. My mother trails behind me. “Honey, please just talk to me. I want to discuss this with you.” “Mom, I don’t want to talk to you. Leave me alone.” “I’m not leaving until you talk to me.” I arrive at my door and proceed into my room and turn around to face my mother.
After all these years I’ve had it!” As me and my brothers hear the yelling fill up the house, we watch our mom plead for the man not to leave. Even though his eyes are filled with rage, his body was giving off a broken aura, and it seemed as though something inside of him finally gave up. He was wearing boxers and a wife beater as he stormed out of the front door, he then headed for the sidewalk. We followed my mother outside as her hopeless shouting and desperation quickly turned to anger. I told my little brother to go back to his room and I led my mom back inside while my brother quickly ran over to the sidewalk where the man walked and offered him a ride to where he was going.
Nobody heard me. Nobody could see me. I forced myself to remember everything that happened and I suddenlyfigured all my years had caught up with me. In an instant, the whole evening came rushing back, slamming into my memory like a thousand pounds of brick. The force of it sent me backward, and I tried to steady myself by grabbing the chair beside me but my hand went right through it and I fell onto the floor.
The next second everybody started to crowd around the people getting of the carriage. I then walked over to see what was happening. I then see a little girl jump off of the carriage. After they saw who it was they just went about their business. I was the only person who stayed after the girl got off.
I don’t know why, but it was part of my instinct to annoy and disrupt the entire process, and while I found it funny, my sister began to give me the same devilish stare. When she had to leave for college, it was a tough time for everyone. There was the stress of not being able to do anything together, and she had to pack her bags at the last minute. For some reason, everyone was getting mad at me for getting in the way, which confused me, as I was just trying to help, but apparently deciding what parts of her room I was going to take over didn’t count as helping. As my sister got in the car to get to the airport, I didn’t feel that sad, but rather confused.