The Silent Suffering of the Abused

I sit here waiting for my moment... knowing that before long I would be chosen; taken to a new home. I never expected to be here for so long with my fellow unwanted companions. For a long time I rejoiced at the jingle of the bell on the door, because it meant someone was here to choose one of us. It meant that I would finally have another home.

Ten years later I am still waiting, but my spine remains rigid and strong, trying, sometimes unsuccessfully, to hold on to my pride. I look around me and notice some of my peers, clothes tattered as though they have been wearing nothing else for 100 years, and I stand in resistance. I cannot deteriorate, I must find a home. I have too much to offer within. I am needed.

Convincing yourself of your worth everyday for ten years can take its toll. So the day she entered the hostel, I was on the edge of hopelessness, I was tired of the wait. A black dusty cloud of depression covered me, reducing my shine. I would not choose me now, for a sea of newer faces had arrived only the day before. A Moleskine donation that flaunted durability and connection, with brighter skin, and colorful layers, secretly saying,

"Choose me!"

But I felt the connection, a tingle up my dark spine alerting me to focus. And there she was, eyes sparkling with pent up emotions, a hint of a smile that didn't quite meet her eyes, and the gentlest hands. The extra layer of make-up enhancing her beauty was a norm for the women who entered this room. For just like me, the layers hid secrets.

.

My excitement grew, for finally I was about to belong to someone, have a place to call home and a person of my own again. After I lost Ana in the tragedy 10 years ago, I never recovered fully. Didn't dare hope that I could belong again, but something in this woman's eyes reassured me that this was meant to be. So I soaked up the warmth of her hands on my black Moleskine cover as we left the place I had called home for ten years.

On our way to her...no our place, I reacquainted myself with the sunshine and was thrilled by the sounds of life around me! The walk was long, but eventually she returned a greeting from someone she knew and I looked up to realize that we had entered a schoolyard.

"Hi Ruby," another passerby greeted.

And I soaked her name into my memory.

Ruby...

A name that held the strength and the promise of a precious gem.

I listened to the buzz of cheerful children, and remembered Molly speaking about a Ruby - Ruby Bridges an American activist; a name that had brought change to desegregation, through perseverance and focus. I was hopeful that this Ruby was also ready for change, because I believed with all my heart that this was finally my moment!

Upon arrival at my new home I was placed on a table in a makeshift office. A soft breeze caressed my black moleskin cover and I appreciated the view of the neighborhood. As the sun set and the steaks of light from the open window grew faint, Suzy ran towards me intent, it seemed, to play or write. I never got the chance to figure out which for a sound of jiggling keys halted her movements.

The atmosphere was immediately overcome by something sinister. It was so thick in the air you could slice it with a knife.Fear! In that moment the sound of a crashing vase echoed through the house, and Ruby fell to her knees, quickly crawling under the table.

I forgot what this felt like! I forgot what it meant to be in a house consumed by violence. I forgot how helpless I felt. I forgot the fear. I was so scared in this moment that I remained rooted to the spot! I couldn't move if I wanted, for if I could I would run to Suzy. She must be as terrified as I am! But I am just a little Moleskine black book, worn out emotionally by the domestic violence and abuse I have seen.

I witnessed firsthand what this life did to Ana, and I promised her that I would keep her secrets safely until the time was right. Going to the police didn't work. They treated Ana like she had a case of hysterics the night she got shot in her own home by someone she loved! They let her down! So the day after she was released from the hospital she walked me back to the Art shelf at the Hostel and whispered.

"I may not survive but ensure the next woman does."

I never knew what that meant until days turn into weeks and eventually years and I never saw Ana again.

My mind tried to shut out the noises, the muffled shouting and the sickening crack of slaps across a face. I could write the scene without the visual for I had seen it so many times. The shrunken shell of a woman leaning downwards, or sprawled in earnest retreat, trying to protect herself from the pain of violence and abuse. Protecting herself from the egotistical human being who felt powerful and limitless, who gave no thought to the feelings of the woman assaulted.

Unlike my previous encounters with violence, this time I was proud that I was not powerless. This time I needed to rid myself of the secrets I held within. I may just be a little black book, but I possess the power to help. I waited for a strong gust of wind to enter the room and joyfully leaped to the ground, landing at Suzy's feet. Her eyes were shut tightly, hand over her ears waiting in suspense for the unknown. Her eyes jolted open as I landed at her feet. I smiled to myself wishing she could see me reassure her. The words I wanted Suzy to see almost leapt from the pages! Ana's final written words for me.

"If you have this book then you are like me. You must be one of the women who seek counseling at the hostel. They must have told you that journaling helped and that is why you have this little black book that I slipped back on the shelf at the women's hostel among the newer notebooks the company donated for us battered women. All of the books are so different, so it must be fated for you to become the one with this little black book.

You must be suffering at the hand of your significant other, someone you thought loved you, someone you may still love. Aching daily, fighting often, physically and emotionally bruised. Unlike me I want you to fight to win, and I have the good sense to understand that this fight is nothing without resources. Resources that I have but am still too rooted in this relationship to leave. So if you want the violence and control you are experiencing to end in a different way than it is ending for me I ask that you do the following. "

Suzy snatched me up quickly, slipping me securely into the front of her waistband. I could tell from the eagerness in her movements that she knew this was important. It was important to her, a child who had lived in fear of her stepfather for five long years. It was important to her mother, a woman I am certain she hoped never to become. This could be the end of the pain and tears!

A stillness descended upon the house, followed by dragging feet and a slamming door upstairs. Suzy quickly carried me to her room, her shivering body collapsing fitfully onto her bed. Eventually she slept hugging me at her side as the adrenaline seeped out of her pores. As she slept I saw Ruby enter, bruised and swollen, crying softly over her daughter! I yearned to open myself to her, but I knew Suzy would soon reveal what I was longing to say.

The next morning when Gary left the house, Suzy showed her mother the secret pages of the book at the breakfast table. Together they discovered their ticket to freedom as they read more of Ana's words. Ana had left a key hidden in a secret place. A key to a safety deposit box with twenty thousand dollars!

I knew that Twenty thousand dollars was not sufficient to purchase a house, pay rent or provide for Ruby and Suzy. It couldn't pay for Ruby to go back to school and find a skill that she enjoyed to provide for her daughter. But I hoped that she would take this once in a lifetime opportunity. An opportunity that meant walking away from a partner who took more than they gave and hurt more than they loved. It meant giving Suzy a life free from violence, and living without fear.

In that moment a ding caused Ruby to pick up her phone, and as an hesitant smile spread across her face, I could tell that she finally she knew the answer to her demise. I peered at her phone to see her scrolling through her Instagram feed, her face transforming as some photographs beckoned to her.

I laid still in anticipation as she studied the photographs and subsequently the country.

"Guyana, South America!" she whispered. "The currency exchange is two hundred Guyana dollars for every US dollar. Yes! This is it!"

I was amazed. With Ana's $20,000 US she would be considered a millionaire in that country. Enough to give Suzy a good life until she could become employed.

This is where Suzy and I will start our new life. That is where we will rebuild.

And even though the story is far from over, a new chapter begins today. I was ready to travel across the ocean with Ruby and become an extension of her "personality and identity" like I was made by Moleskine to become! For I am no longer just a little black book of secrets, left to mourn its human, I am now a little black book of strength!

The next evening on the airplane, new passports and money safely tucked into her pocketbook, Ruby reached blindly for me. She turned a new leaf in my pages and I soaked up the first words she wrote on her new journey…

I apologize to myself…

Dedicated to the women who have suffered abuse and death at the hand of a significant other! You are not isolated! Your voice matters. If you need support please visit this website for hotline numbers and other resources that you can use!