I originally wanted to provide a chronological listing of the abuse I suffered, but I think there are some incidences that proved to be more traumatic than others. These are the ones I want to bring into the open and deal with, in an attempt to put the memories and flashbacks to rest.
I remember one time when my youngest son was about 7 , and my daughter was about 3. Jeff wasn't working at the time. I had a fairly decent job. I worked sometimes on Saturdays until noon. I came home that Saturday afternoon. The only thing the children had eaten was sugared cola and candy. I had left something for both breakfast and lunch. It was about 2 pm, Jeff was laid out on the couch, drinking. He was already drunk. I didn't say anything to him, just went in and changed my clothes, then went into the kitchen.
Jeff came into the kitchen and asked me what I was doing. I admit I was mad, but I tried to bite my tongue. I smiled and told him I was going to fix supper. He told me that I didn't need to fix supper, that the kids had plenty of stuff to eat. He was so drunk, I had trouble understanding him. I asked him to repeat what he said, and he started yelling at me, calling me names. I tried to walk away, because I knew if I said what I wanted to say, it would really make him mad.
As I tried to leave the room, he grabbed my upper arm and twisted it behind me. He pulled me close to him, put his other arm around my throat, and told me not to walk away from him. I just froze.
My son walked into the kitchen, looked at us, then ran over and kicked Jeff. My son shouted "let my Mama go." Jeff did, but only so he could push the boy away and into a wall. Jeff had his fist raised to hit the child when I grabbed his arm and started screaming at him. Jeff did turn his attention to me again.
I told Jeff if he hit my son, I would leave, take both kids and disappear. This made Jeff so mad, I thought he was going to have a stroke. Instead he backhanded me hard enough to knock me into the stove, which caused the pot of very hot water to spill. Since I had turned to stove off when Jeff first came into the kitchen it wasn't boiling hot, but hot enough to hurt. The water spilled all over the floor in front of the stove. I slipped in it and fell. Jeff started his laughing.
Then Jeff told me if I ever left, he would hunt me down and kill me. Then he would take and bury me so far in the woods, no one would ever find me. I sat there on the floor, in the hot water, crying. My son sat crying where he was. When I asked if he was okay, he nodded yes.
Jeff went back into the front room, taking my son with him. Shortly after, I got up, mopped up the water and cleaned off the stove. I then sat at the dining room table, trying to be calm. I was attending college two nights a week, so I pulled out my school books and started doing homework. I didn't know what else to do. I could hear Jeff in the front room, ranting to the children about what a "B...h" I was, and if I didn't change my ways, that he would find a way to put me out of my misery. Several times during the next couple of hours, one or the other child would come into the kitchen to get a beer out of the refrigerator for Jeff. The first time they both came in, and both came to me. They both gave me hugs and told me they loved me. Jeff heard them and shouted for them to leave me alone. He told them I was a bad Mama and until I could be better they had best stay away. Both children gave me another hug, whispered they loved me. I hugged them, whispered I love them too, and told them to go play in their room. They did, until Jeff started calling them to get them to get his beer.
Things seemed to have calmed down, when Jeff came into the dining room. He asked me what I was doing. I told him homework. He came over, sat across from me and told me that I was done going to school. I asked him what he meant and he grabbed my papers and books, threw them into the kitchen floor and repeated that I was through with school. When I mentioned I only had three more weeks to finish the semester, he repeated that I was through with school. I stood up and repeated I only had three weeks left to finish the semester. I bent over to pick up my books and papers from the floor. He kicked me in the bottom, causing me to fall onto the top of my books. He told me I was through with school. Then he grabbed a can of lighter fluid and squirted it on the books, splashing some onto me. Then he started laughing, pulled out a lighter and started flicking it so it flamed. I started screaming and scooting backwards. I am not sure what I was screaming, but I do remember screaming he was crazy and was going to kill me. Both children ran into the kitchen when I started screaming. My daughter started crying and my son ran out of the room, yelling he was going to call the cops. We did not have a phone, but my son ran to a neighbor's house and told them to call because his daddy was trying to burn up his Mama.
I am not sure how long it took for the police to get there, they claim it was 7 minutes from the time they received the call to the time they got there. Jeff must have realized my son had left the house, because he stopped flicking the lighter, grabbed our daughter, and told me to stand up. I did. He told me to go change into my nightgown and if the cops showed up to tell them it was all a misunderstanding. I told him no, that I hoped he went to jail and would rot there for all I cared. He then said that if I refused, he would set the books on fire and toss my daughter into it. He laughed and said that she would burn to death before me or anyone else could save her.
I didn't know if that was true, but it scared me, even more than the thought of me burning. When the cops came to the door, I was in my nightgown, sitting in a chair facing the door, my son was sitting on the floor beside me I answered and told them everything was fine. They said they had had a call, and I told them the screaming was because I had spilled hot water and thought I had burned myself. That my son was mistaken and everything was okay. My son just sat there and cried. When he was asked if that is what happened, he looked at me then nodded. The officers seemed reluctant to leave, but did.
Jeff came out of the kitchen with my daughter, patted me on the head, told me I did good, that I had "earned" the right to finish the semester. He then went to the bedroom and passed out.
If you feel you are being abused or know someone who is being abused call the National Domestic Violence hotline. 1-800-799-7233
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