The Second Look that never came
She cowers in the recesses of the walk-in closet. Outside, the sounds of his rage penetrate this most precarious of havens. She buries her face in the satin of her wedding gown, and begins to pray to a god she's no longer sure she believes in. She has prayed before, countless times, but her words seem to have fallen on deaf ears. God, who is supposed to be her savior, has never protected her from the brutality of the man she married.
It wasn't always this way. There was a time, although she really can't recall how long ago it really was, when he claimed to love her more than anything in the world. Their marriage was blissful. She couldn't have been happier.
Then, things began to go wrong. The cases he worked weren't solved. The chief of police grew angry, and her husband grew bitter. The man she married had begun to change. He still said he loved her, but only after he'd hit her.
This house used to be her shelter, but now, it serves only as a reminder of the hell her life has become. Her head has made contact with every one of its walls. Her blood and tears have stained the floors. It's a prison now, and escape is something she only dreams of.
In the beginning, she held out some hope. Surely, as the wife of a policeman, she was entitled to some assistance. Maybe he could get counseling. Maybe they both could. Surely, resources were out there. All she needed to do was reach out.
But reaching out had only caused her more pain. His fellow officers refused to believe her stories. They would cover for him, protect him. She was collateral damage, not worth protecting.
And so, here she is tonight, hiding in a closet, as chairs are overturned and dishes shattered. Every crash signals the crumbling of one more dream, the dashing of one more hope. No one has bothered to help her. They looked at her, took in the bruises, the blackened eyes, the marks on her throat. Just as quickly, eyes were averted. No one wanted to see. No one wanted to get involved. So, she's alone, praying he won't find her, praying the alcohol he has consumed will incapacitate him before he makes it up here. All she can do is hope for one more night of safety.
Her tears fall as she realizes, not for the first time, just how bleak her circumstances truly are. She's alone. All she can hope for is one more night of safety, and, if she doesn't get it, who will really care?
This has been my entry for week 3 of Second Chance Idol. Thank you for reading.
It wasn't always this way. There was a time, although she really can't recall how long ago it really was, when he claimed to love her more than anything in the world. Their marriage was blissful. She couldn't have been happier.
Then, things began to go wrong. The cases he worked weren't solved. The chief of police grew angry, and her husband grew bitter. The man she married had begun to change. He still said he loved her, but only after he'd hit her.
This house used to be her shelter, but now, it serves only as a reminder of the hell her life has become. Her head has made contact with every one of its walls. Her blood and tears have stained the floors. It's a prison now, and escape is something she only dreams of.
In the beginning, she held out some hope. Surely, as the wife of a policeman, she was entitled to some assistance. Maybe he could get counseling. Maybe they both could. Surely, resources were out there. All she needed to do was reach out.
But reaching out had only caused her more pain. His fellow officers refused to believe her stories. They would cover for him, protect him. She was collateral damage, not worth protecting.
And so, here she is tonight, hiding in a closet, as chairs are overturned and dishes shattered. Every crash signals the crumbling of one more dream, the dashing of one more hope. No one has bothered to help her. They looked at her, took in the bruises, the blackened eyes, the marks on her throat. Just as quickly, eyes were averted. No one wanted to see. No one wanted to get involved. So, she's alone, praying he won't find her, praying the alcohol he has consumed will incapacitate him before he makes it up here. All she can do is hope for one more night of safety.
Her tears fall as she realizes, not for the first time, just how bleak her circumstances truly are. She's alone. All she can hope for is one more night of safety, and, if she doesn't get it, who will really care?
This has been my entry for week 3 of Second Chance Idol. Thank you for reading.