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When It's Time to Leave

How do I get out of here safely?

By Denise WillisPublished 4 years ago 3 min read
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,It was September and I was living in San Diego, CA, with my 7 year old son and an Italian man named Marco. Marco and I had not had a very good relationship as he was abusive, both physically and psychologically. He used to make me write lettters to his old girlfriends since his handwriting was not the best, and threaten me with his fists if I didn't do it. He was abusive to my young son and I usually took the brunt of that by standing in front of my son when he went after him, and refusing to let him hit the child who was scared out of his mind. Then I would be the one to get in trouble but that was better than having my son get hit.

We had traveled to Colorado in July for my son's birthday to see my parents and try to let them get to know Marco, who, in spite of the way he treated me I thought I was in love with. When we had left, my father told me there was nothing wrong with Marco, it was me and I needed to close the gap between us. However, he hadn't spoken to me since I arrived back in San Diego, and when I asked my mother why, she snapped at me and wanted to know how I thought he felt with me taking my son back to California. I didn't understand, but I kept trying to call him and leaving messages.

My father died on September 18, 1978. I was in California and never got to say goodbye, and my mother blamed me for his death saying that he died of a broken heart. I knew she couldn't make it on her own so I had to move back to Colorado, but how did I do that with a controlling and abusive man to get past?

That night when he was in the shower, I shoved all the clothes and personal belongings in a suitcase and slid it under the bed. The next morning I pulled it out hesitantly, hoping he didn't want to see inside. He asked me why I had such a big suitcase since I was only going to be gone a few days, and I lied with a straight face, my hands shaking and my stomach in knots. I told him I was so upset I couldn't figure out what I needed so I threw it all in. He seemed to accept that.

I got on the bus with my son and we headed back to Colorado, me determined never to go back to Marco and feeling that he was the problem between my father and me. The funeral was hard, one of the hardest things I've ever had to do, but I was there for my mother in spite of her feelings toward me at the time. Then the unthinkable happened and Marco wrote and said he was coming to get me. I panicked, and the only thing I knew to do was go to the Sheriff and tell them how he had been writing up insurance policies for drunk Native Americans and making himself the beneficiary so he could collect the money he felt he had coming. I don't usually snitch on people because I feel they will be punished when their time comes and it isn't up to me, but this was my only option to keep him away from my son, myself, and my mother.

Whenhe showed up at my mother's house, I called the police since I had a restraining order against him. The sheriff came out and they took him away, but before he left he insisted on having a word with me. My hands were sweating and my skin felt clammy as he sauntered over, then he looked at me and reminded me that he and his whole family were connected to the mob in Chicago and I would be hearing from him because he was owed favors. Then he smiled and calmly walked away with the sheriff. I had nightmares for weeks, but nothing came of it and I finally was able to get on with my life.

It is never easy being in an abusive relationship and it's even harder to get out of one without getting hurt, but it can be done. You just have to consider all the little angles, his buttons that you don't want to push, and act with care.

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About the Creator

Denise Willis

I love art as much as writing, and when the world feels dark, I get out my paper and colored pencils and draw while listening to music. When my husband and I were going through a divorce, journaling is what got me through that..

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