in memory of a friend who was a victim and could not find a way out RIP

by NoreenM, July 19, 2012

Letters to my husband
Letter to my husband
Dear husband
I saw you yesterday and I know you saw me too, but you just passed me as if you hadn’t. I shouted your name really loud but you just kept walking as if I wasn’t there. Was my voice not loud enough and did you not see my smile?
Even when I walked into the house too, you behaved still with scorn. The way you looked at me and smirked your face made me cry. I could not show you though the tears in my eyes because then you could see the defeat I felt that very moment. Instead when I went to the bathroom I just laid in there and I cried. I cry a million times but I just never show you.
I don’t know where it all went wrong that you treat me worse than my own fears. I gave you the beauty of my youth and I gave you all my essence of being a woman. I gave birth to our 3 beautiful children but all I have now is scars that will never fade away.

I went to the doctor yesterday too and when he asked me about the bruises all over my body I just said I was clumsy and fell down the stairs, one time too many. You know every time you raise your hand at me, you take away a piece of my soul. I think I am just an empty shell of a person without a soul considering the number of times you have hit on me and pushed me against the wall. I see the specks of my blood on the wall when I am going up the staircase and no matter how much I wash the walls even with bleach the spots just don’t fade at all.
This house which we bought to call a home is a prison for me. No matter how much heating I put on its still cold for me. I shiver every time I walk through the door even in summer when it is hot outside. My heart pounds really hard, this was meant to be a safe place for me and you know my history.
You know how when I was a young girl that man who was meant to be my guardian abused me and my mama just looked on. You know I was hooked onto drugs and thrown into soliciting just to survive. You know the streets were rough on me. The ghetto corrupted me. You know my life almost ended when I cut my wrists one time too many and I lost so much blood out there on the streets before they found me. You know too how hard it was to have a child because of the abortion I had after the rape when I was 12. My husband you came and you promised me it was all going to be fine.
I got off the streets into this amazing building which was meant to be my security place and here you are today worse than anything I had never imagined.
Please my husband just don’t hit me anymore or raise your hand at me. I am at the point of losing my mind and I am afraid I might lift these tiny worn out hands and take you out. Please I beg you don’t let my children grow without their parents, because I know I will snap one day.
I hope you will read this letter after your dinner and reply me in the morning.
Your wife

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