Flashbacks

Last night I woke up around 2am, sweating and shaking. I dont want to call it a nightmare, so maybe a flashback, since it was me reliving a moment that happened. I remember the argument, the fear, the pathetic attempt at getting away, then nothing... I dont know how long I was out for. Long enough for 911 to keep attempting to get someone to answer after the screams stoppped, long enough for them to actually hang up, call back, then call our cell phone provider to try and get a location on us. Long enough for me to last remember being in the bathroom trying to lock the door, slamming against the wall and fumbling for my phone. Then finding myself being shaken awake on the bed. What happened during those lost moments between the bathroom and the bed? My body felt numb, but it was shaking. I remember him grabbing my shoulders and flopping me around, his hand smacking my cheek, his attempts at bringing me back. I know it was hard to talk. My lips felt tingly. Gasping for breath, trying to take in what had been denied for who knows how long. I think I was whining or wailing, depending on what you would call it. Im sure I wasnt screaming any longer, but was making some sort of noise, unable to control it. I remember that because he kept demanding I shut the hell up. Demanding I get myself under control and do as he said. He was extra angry now. I had called for help. Thrusting the phone into my hands he demanded I make up a story, say I dialed by accident, or that the kids had dialed. My kids?! I tried standing up, stumbling towards the doorway. Unable to make it, how long had he denied oxygen into my lungs? The kids were ok. Still downstairs, hopefully deaf to the noise taking place. The tv blotting out the horrors going on. It hurt to suck in air, my voice came out gravelly as I tried to concoct some story to appease the 911 operator. They didnt buy it. I dragged on clothes and put on a happy face for the kids downstairs, stumbling out the door onto the porch. Trying not to look the officers in the eyes. They knew. But there is nothing they could do, unless I said something. I was too afraid to say anything. I pulled my hair around my neck, hiding the bruises, staring at the ground and mumbling lies. Anything to make them leave. I remember the officers making me look at his face. I remember him telling me it will only get worse, that he could help me. His hand reaching for me and I wincing away. Just confirming what they already believed. I dont remember that officers name. I remember the sadness in his eyes, because he knew I was going to remain a victim.


I woke up from my "nightmare/flashback" at that point. I remember what happened after that, how stupid I was to not scream for them to save me. How stupid I was to listen to his crocodile tears and empty promises of never doing that again. I know everything happens for a reason. I was meant to meet and be with that man for a time. I was meant to bring three amazing children into this world. The pain and hardships I suffered at his hands must have a reason. There must be a bigger picture to all of this. I just havent found it yet. Maybe if I hadnt been the one to suffer from him during that time, some other girl would have, and she wouldnt have survived it. I dont know. But it scares me to know, he is going to break another girl. Because he wont stop.