AN: Hello, I got this idea while thinking about my sister who was abused. It's kinda angsty and not very well written. Well, what can you do? The poem was written by me a while ago, not all that great either. Well, enjoy… Or don't enjoy… Either way.
I guess no one really expected it. No one thought any one would break Stephanie Plum. Oh, how wrong they were.
Well, I got married, settled down. Lived in a burg house, with a burg lifestyle and a burg husband and burg kids. I did everything that was expected of me. I don't really understand what went wrong. Maybe it was my fault, like he always told me, or maybe he was always like this and I just never noticed. Not until now.
I remember the first time it happened. I was so scared; I really thought he would kill me.
He came home, hard day at work; it always was hard catching criminals. Anyway, I was cooking in my burg kitchen, and yes, I did learn how to cook, when he walked in the door, drunk.
"Hey, how was your day?" I asked quietly. I didn't expect him to react. I mean, I guessed his day wasn't great, but it couldn't hurt to ask, could it? Well, it could, trust me on that. He had his back to me, getting a beer from the fridge. He whirled around, throwing a bottle at my head. It hit my cheek, hard, forcing me to crumple from where I was standing.
"Don't you fucking mock me!" He screamed, kicking me and kicking me until I lay there bleeding, broken, crying on the floor. I just lay there, covering my face. I'd picked up so many wife beaters as skips in my time, but I never really understood what it was like. Until then, of course.
That particular incident gave me a few cracked ribs, but I couldn't go to hospital, no, I was too scared. What would I say? "Hi, my name is Stephanie Plum, and my husband beats me"? No, I don't think so.
The beatings became more and more frequent; once or twice I actually did have to go to a doctor. Surprisingly, he managed not to hit my face, no one could really tell. I was living in my private hell, not coming out, not talking to anyone.
Of course, my children knew what was happening. Oh, little Bella and Damien, they knew. But they didn't say a word. Sometimes I wish they would, maybe telling someone would make it better. But I never could, never had the courage. Anyway, who could I tell? There was no one left to listen.
I would walk around, seeing things but not looking, hearing but not listening. I was slipping away, away into my own world where nothing hurt and I wouldn't have to deal with the pain my husband gave me. Our abusive relationship.
I tried to keep going. I tried to live. But I just couldn't. Living hurt too much. I'm sorry to all those I left behind, I'm really sorry. I want my children to grow up well. I want Marylou to have that vacation she always wanted. I'm sorry, Mum, I never could be perfect. I guess I just wasn't made for the burg.
Live your dreams.
Lots of love,
Stephanie Michelle Plum-Morelli
They say ev'rything is worth it,
But there's something they won't admit.
I know the real thing, the truth,
My own life, that's the proof.
The blood trickles down my wrist,
A pain that I'll never miss.
I'm going someplace better,
The wounds are getting deeper.
Don't try to stop me,
No need to mourn.
You can cry for me,
But I'm already gone.
The world is getting darker,
Take me to heaven's keeper.
Take my life and all its pain,
Let the earth beneath me stain.
My vision is now blurred,
Blinding tears, nothing to be heard.
Please, take me away,
I no longer want to stay.
Don't try to stop me,
No need to mourn.
You can cry for me,
But I'm already gone.
Don't try to stop me,
No need to mourn.
You can cry for me,
But I'm already gone.
Gone…
RIP
Stephanie Michelle Plum-Morelli