It was a bright and sunny fall day outside. The wind was blowing the trees with their multi-colored leaves. The sounds of children playing hide and seek or kickball was heartwarming to any parent in the cul-de-sac where I live, but not to me. My four children are bullies that take after their father and there is nothing I can do about it because I have no power in my own home. They know that any punishments I try to give out are quickly overruled by my husband.
I do the cooking, the cleaning and the washing of all the clothes. I smile fake smiles at bake sales and PTA meetings. None of these women are my friends. I don't have time for friendships, anyway. I am the perfect stay at home wife in Pittsburg. I still live in a Burg town and we have been here for 14 years. Besides visits for Christmas and Thanksgiving, I never hear of anything that goes on back home. It hurts less if I don't know.
Not being able to put it off any longer, I get up and look into the mirror in the bathroom. A 41 year old has been. I see crow's feet, sad, lackluster eyes, a boring face and no smile. I never really smile anymore. My hair is not wild anymore, either. It is just as lifeless as I feel. I only wear makeup to cover bruises.
I sigh and put makeup on my cheek to cover the bruise that is forming there. It was my own fault for asking to have a part time job at the library. The library for God's sake! I just wanted to feel like a person again, to have something of my own. I thought it would be a safe request, after all no one really comes to the library and there would be kids there and not much talking.
His hand had flown faster than the time it took me to finish the sentence. He had growled that if I could not make do with my household allowance, then maybe I should stop getting my hair and nails done. It was always like this. I would ask for something and Joe would either bark a quick no, or he would hit me and tell me the reason I could not have it was somehow my own fault.
People always say that abuse was a gradual process and they would apologize and then it was too hard to leave. That did not happen to me. Joe has been abusive since we got together. He was verbally abusive in public and in private he would shove me and be rough with me. I never felt good enough and one day when my mother told me Joe was my last chance, I took a hard look at my life and realized she was right. He was my last chance to have the kind of life she has, but I never wanted that life. I let her browbeat me into submission because I missed HIM. He was on a mission and he was not around to remind me that he was proud of me. He was not around to smile at me and tell me to call him if I needed him.
Once I said yes to Joe, he took a transfer to Pittsburgh and we moved within a month. We were married quickly and I was pregnant immediately. I did not even get to name my four boys. At least after the fourth one Joe stopped wanting to have sex with me. I hope he has a mistress. If this is the life other women of the Burg live, no wonder they don't care about cheating. They probably encourage it just to get a break from the inconsiderate sex they have to endure. I have dawdled here long enough. Dinner needs to be made and there is laundry to do. I say the same thing to myself over and over in my mind. What if? What if I was not such a coward and I made better choices for myself back then? I would give anything to go back to when I first met HIM. I trip over several toys and fall down the stairs. Is this how I die, I wonder as the blackness comes over me.