My mother was so young with such innocent eyes; my mother had always told me that she dreamt of a fairytale life, all the things that money that can’t buy you. Like in the fairy tale stories you would read as a child. My mother always thought my father was a wonderful guy until things had seemed to change when she had taken on his name.
You never knew what made him tick until he had one day. I remember that day when I came home early he had taken his anger out on her face. She had kept all the pain locked away by the away. I see her now sitting on the couch in my living room on edge and anxious with my partner in the room.
I touched her hand and give her a hug as I sat down I whispered ‘Oh mother, we’re stronger from all of the tears you have shed. Oh mother, don’t look back. Cause he will never hurt us again. So mother we like to say thank you for all that you have done and still do’
You got me, I got you. You know that together we always pulled through. We always pull through. We always pull through. I remember it was our turn that he had turned on the kids. My mother knew she had to leave him but there was so many voices inside of her head saying over, over and over again. “You deserve so much more than this” She was so sick of believing his loss and trying to hide it by covering the cuts and bruises. My was so tired of defending her life she could of died fighting for the lives of her children.
Until one of us called for the police just in time to catch him in the act of hurting her. That’s when it was the last time all of us saw him even my mother as she watched him being taking away from the back of the ambulance.
(Readers this is just a general story that I have made. However this is what is like in real life when domestic violence happens behind closed doors)