For the Love of A Daughter
It's been three year since I lost my unborn daughter in a car accident as well as my husband running off with someone else ever other night. After the car accident my husband and I were losing our love and infection for one another. He began drinking. I began covering. Covering up the bruises and scars my body has been presented with. Lie to my parents when they asked how I was doing. For the last three years it has been nothing but hell. He's never been one to drink or one to become violent. But in the last three years of my life, things have changed, not for the best. I can remember the first night he came home in a drunken rage. It was 6 months after our lost.
I was in the bedroom getting ready for bed. I pulled the sheets to my bedspread back and propped the pillows. Once that was done, I went down stairs to the kitchen to get a glass of cold water to take my sleep medicine. After I took the pills I cleaned out the glass and put it in the dish drain. I jumped when my husband gripped me from behind. "You know, I'm getting really tired of your bullshit." I was slung into the kitchen's island counter top. My back was in riving pain. I took a hold to it with my right hand. "W-what are you doing?" I croaked feeling my tears pour down my cheeks. He backhanded me in the face with his left hand.
With his right he grabbed me by my hair tugging me to the ground. "You think I want to do this, huh? You killed out baby and there's nothing we can do about it." He dragged me into the living room and let go of me. I got to my feet to run out of the room and hid, but he stuck out his foot and tripped me. My body hit the ground with a thud. I rolled over to face him. He took me by my feet up the stairs. The back of my head hit the edge of the steps as we went up. I had been kicking and screaming at him the way up to the second floor of our home. "Let me go! Stop It!" My cries were not met. "Get up," I didn't move, "get the fuck up!" I still didn't move a muscle, to scared of what was coming to me.
"See you don't know how to follow rules. You worthless piece of shit." He spat, picking me up, pushing me into the wall, then into our bedroom. "You didn't know how to stop at the fucking stop sign, huh? So you wanted to keep going, huh? You wanted to kill her; you couldn't stand the thought of being a mother, huh? You killed the only thing that I was still with you, with." He tossed me on the bed, got on top of me and chocked me, yelling hurtful things to me. My face was burning up so I knew it was going red and I was slipping unconscious. He let go of his grip and started unbuckling his pants. "We're going to have that baby even if we have to fuck every night. I want my daughter back." I was raped.
