So as soon as I opened my mouth to talk, he hit me; down to the floor I went dazed. He then picks me up by my throat, and hit me repeatedly over and over again. I’m dazed, confused, and again wondering what I did to deserve this. He aggressively began to pick my thin 108 pound body up over his head, and slams me into our dining room table.
My table at the time was a sturdy wood table with glass insets. As my body falls to the table, I feel my body become one with the table, I am falling in slow motion, as my skin begins to tear as the glass rips my skin and blood begin to flow from my body. My back feels as if I was struck in the back by an 18 wheeler. Sharp pains shoot throughout my body, I just knew my back was broken, I couldn’t move. My face battered and swollen feels like I have no teeth, I am numb yet I am in so much pain. My eyes are watery and I can barely see anything. My head is pounding from the pressures inside my brain.
All this while he is still beating me, my life is flashing before my eyes. I have seen this vision so many times, and it is a different one every time. Oh my GOD! I can’t move, my body is limp and as I lay there I can see him but I can’t hear him. Everything around me is silent, I can’t hear a thing. He is still yelling at me, not sure what he is saying, because I am in a trance and still very dazed. I find myself crawling to the couch from our dining area, not knowing what to do or what is going to happen next. As I started to crawl I am getting kicked in my side, my neck, and my face. Finally, I make it to the couch; I lay there half naked as he continues to beat me out of my clothes.
I pull myself up to the couch with all I had in me, and preceded to lay down to try and regain my energy. While I lay on the couch, I realized that I didn’t have on anything other than my panties and my bra. Where are my clothes? I had on a pair of blue jeans and a t-shirt. While I am laying there motionless, he is still screaming at me at the top of his lungs. He continues to hit me in my face with his fist, in a downward motion into the couch like he was trying to burry my face in it. I can see him but I still can’t hear anything. Blood is running from my nose and staining the couch. Tears running from my eyes and is becoming one with the blood. Suddenly, I hear loud sounds of banging and screams coming from the door. “Open this door” “Open this fucking door”.
Those screams are from my mother, I am sure she could hear him screaming at me as she is walking up to the door. While she is banging and screaming, he is telling me softly to “NOT to open that fucking door.” I felt diminished and I couldn’t move anyway, I was in so much pain, and I felt I couldn’t even make it to the door if I tried. All of a sudden he says “Open the fucking door.” Only this when he realizes that she wasn’t going anywhere, and if he didn’t let her in she would call the police. If you knew my mom, you would know she was coming through that door one way or another. I started to make my way to the door, what felt to be a journey, after falling from the couch. I started to slowly crawl to the door, it was so intense, and I didn’t know if I would be shot or if he would start beating me again.
Finally, I made it to the door and reach up to unlock and open it. I see my mom, she was my angel that I prayed for, and she was staring at me with such pain in her eyes. The conviction in her eyes as a parent to see me sitting there on the floor looking up at her helplessly, her eyes told her story. She walks in, her purse is hanging off her arm, her other arm is resting within that arm, and her hand is supporting her chin. She enters, and all she could fix her lips to say was “Mark, Why?” as she looked at him and he stares back at her, he says nothing.
When he had nothing to say, she just couldn’t handle it anymore, she then reaches deep into her purse, as to pull out something, my eyes still blurry. I can’t really see, until she pulls out her gun. She pointed it directly at him, and at that moment I could see the pain, the anger, the hate she had for this man, because of what he had done to her daughter. I know my mom, and at that moment she loved me despite my pain to her. She was my protector she came to fight for me.
I wasn’t ready for what was next; he picked up his twelve gauge and pointed it directly at her. He only had it near him, because he had already threatened my life before she got there. My eyes had seen death coming before, but it was not going to happen that day, and if it did it wouldn’t be my mother.
