She didn’t make it

July 12, 2008

I am a friend of Sharon.  Her mom told me to come by and pick up her computer after the funeral.  I can’t believe she got rid of all her stuff so fast.  It’s like she was glad to get rid of it.  I think there is something going on between her and Sharon’s boyfriend he moved in while Sharon was in ICU and never left.  It’s disgusting.  When I went to pick up some of her belongings they were sitting on the couch together watching A Shot at Love. 

I didn’t even get to say goodbye to her.  Her mom had her taken off of life support while I was driving down.  By the time I got there she was already in the morgue.  My last memory of my friend is her laid out on a cold steel table.  I didn’t want to see her like that, but I had to say goodbye.                                           I don’t believe she fell.  The whole left side of her skull was caved in.  You don’t get that from falling down six steps.  Her mom had her cremated.  Said she could afford a funeral because she didn’t have money to spend on the dead.

I found this blog going through her favorites.  I had no idea what she was going through.  She was one of those people that always put on a happy face.  I didn’t have a clue.  These blogs answer a lot of questions for me.  Her mom told me that she had been diagnosed with Lupus when she was admitted to hospital for her legs.  I am going to let the authorities know about this.  I can’t let him get away with it!


21 DAYS OF HELL (a battered woman’s alibi)

June 11, 2008

I knew he was cheating on me.  I found some big ass earrings in the armrest of my car the other day.  When I asked him who they belonged to he went CRAZY.  He started pulling my hair, slapping me, and slamming my head into the dashboard.  I opened the glove box and tried to get the pepperspray and found an empty box of condoms.  I opened the car door to get out and he grabbed me by the back of my pants to pull me back in and I hit the back of my head on the door frame.  He let me go and I took off running.  He started the car and tried to run me over.  I ran down the driveway and he pinned me to the garage, put the car in park, and started spitting in my face and slapping me.  He banged my head on the hood of the car, got back in, put it in reverse, and burned rubber down the driveway. 

My legs felt like rubber.  I could barely feel them below my knees.  The pain was so unbearable that I collasped in the driveway. 

When I came to my mother was standing over me.  She was cursing at me to get up.  She said he called her and said I had been getting high all day and had passed out in the driveway 

21 DAYS OF HELL (a batterd woman’s alibi)

June 7, 2008

I just got out of the hospital.  They tried to keep me for 72 hour observation, but I convinced the authorities that I would get some out patient counseling so I wouldn’t lose my job.   I don’t even know if I really wanted to die.  I just want him to stop hitting me.  I’m not a fucking punching bag.  I don’t know why I still love him when he treats me so bad. 

My mother came to the hospital to pick me up.  She thinks I’m on drugs.  Would it make her feel any better if I told her the truth?  He has got her so wrapped around his finger, she probably wouldn’t believe me anyway.  Everytime I get beat really bad – she gets something new.  Her washer and dryer came from my black eye, her refrigerator came from my tooth getting knocked out, and her 60′ plasma came from my broken arm.  She thinks I am either clumsy or high out of my mind and she even told him that he should get me some help.  When I tell her how unhappy I am in my relationship she thinks she is helping me by reminding me what a good man I have and how grateful I should be to have him in my life. 

I feel so trapped.  The last time I told him that I wanted to leave him he told me that he has been putting drugs in everything I’ve eaten since we met and that he would  demand a drug test from the court and take my kids from me.  I was so sore from him stomping on me.  I took the pills because I was in so much pain.  I drunk the vodka because I was mad.  I never thought I would end up vomiting and having convulsions in my sleep.  I think he was waiting to see if I was going to die.  It seems like he sat there and watched me for a long time before he called 911.

21 DAYS OF HELL (a battered woman’s alibi)

June 4, 2008

I want to leave him so bad, but I don’t want to break up our family.  I know he loves me, but he just has such a bad temper.  I remember when we first got together, he ws so nice.  We used to go to amusement parks and out to dinner all the time, it was great.  Yeah he used to pull on me and grab me by the arm.  He would get really protective when anyone came around, but I just thought he cared so much about me that he didn’t want anyone else to have me because he wanted me all to his self.  I thought that was love.

I remember the first time he hit me.  We were at his mom’s house for Mother’s Day.  All of his sisters and brothers and all their kids came together and cooked a big dinner for their mom.  I was in the kitchen helping his sisters cook while he ws outside drinking with his brothers.  As I stood at the sink washing the greens I looked out of the kitchen window and watched him drink beer after beer and shot of patron after shot of patron.  I shivered inside at the thought of having to sleep with his drunk ass later on.  When he gets real drunk he doesn’t make love to me.  His kisses taste like throwup and he slobberes all over my face (that is his idea of foreplay) then he rips my panties off, pushes my legs apart, and tries to shove his limp ass dick inside of me for about 15 minutes.  Then just when I think our lovely evening is over, he jumps up and starts cussing me out talking about I’m fat and I don’t turn him on  that’s why his dick won’t get hard. 

I help his  youngest sister set the table and out of the blue she says, “how do you put up with him?  I love my brother, but I hate my brother.  He doesn’t treat women right.”  “How do you know?  You are only 13.”  I asked her.  “I have two eyes and two ears and all four of them work” she said as she walked back into the kitchen.  I put the conversation and my thoughts of my ‘romantic evening’  out of my head and decided to focus on pleasing him and not doing anything to make him mad.

The evening was going great until all the grandkidsgot up and said a poem for his mom.  They were so cute.  When they finished their poems they gave their grandma a hug and then they hugged their parents. I got up and gave his mom a hug and went to hug him when he just clicked as said, “don’t hug that bitch Ma!  She aint no muthafuckin mother, that bitch won’t even give me a kid.”  Then he pushed me back into my seat.  I wanted to get up and run out of the room, but I knew if I did he would really get me.  So I just sat there while the family just went back to eating, talking, and laughing like nothing ever happened.  I looked over at his youngest sister, she looked back and shook her head.

21 DAYS OF HELL (a battered woman’s alibi)

June 3, 2008

Sooner or later one of us is going to meet our maker. 

Did his daddy used to grab his mama by the neck and shake her? 

Did he throw his other baby mama on the bed and rape her? 

Why he gotta be such a hater? 

Just cause I got a better job and make more paper – than he ever will. 

So that is why he try to fill –  my head up with his verbal abuse.  ‘I made him mad’ that’s his excuse.   

For slapping me in front of all his friends.  He said if I shed one tear he would do it again.

A  battered woman’s alibi is the story I tell as I chronicle my next 21 days of hell.