Reflections

He is beating on the bathroom door now thunderous and strong. This is not a threat or a warning it is only a sign of what is to come. It is like the rumble in the clouds before the lightnings strikes and cracks in the sky and lights it up. There is sure to be more this is only the beginning. My skin is hot and my heart is racing faster than it ever has before. I barricaded myself in the bathroom of our tiny one-bedroom apartment in desperation. On the cool linoleum floor, I brace my body against the door, feet planted and hands trembling. I hear him loading things up against the door, so if I budge at all he will know. I can smell the mildew from the cheap shower curtain hanging beside me, the shower drips in a nerve wearing fashion. I am trapped! The window is no bigger than a shoe box I feel like a rabbit caught in a snare desperate to escape. The tears stream down my face I have lost all control how has my life come to this. I feel my stomach tighten and roll.

We have only been together less than a year but in this short time I have lost so much. He calls it love, I call it chaos. I was ready to leave weeks ago until the news came. Now I am stuck here as if my feet have been encased in cement and I can no longer run. The two lines have sealed my fate and I must stay. Pride too strong to say I made a mistake and too isolated to ask for help. He beats me when his drugs wear off or kick in, I have never known this world before. Do I deserve this fate and how will I protect the little life inside of me that I am now responsible for?

He never remembers pulling my hair and throwing me on the couch, the screams do not echo in his ears he has gone into a dark rage. The slaps across my face or the punches to my legs yet the marks are there to remind him his hand prints on my arms. “Just tell her you like rough sex,” he tells me when the Doctor asks where they came from. Something I said upset him and he threw the “What to expect when are you expecting” book at my face, let me tell you that was not what I was expecting. When he locked me outside in the rain in my pajamas with only my pregnant belly to comfort me. The seriousness of my dire situation sinks in and the night air feels even colder. I hold my belly tightly for warmth and comfort, until he decides that is enough time has passed to appease him. We are not his family or loved ones only intruders that he fights to push away and destroy. This is not love, I must get away. If not for me, for my son he is not safe here.