Camila/you imagines

Hero(es)

Your pov

My life had been nothing close to easy, but I was over. It was finally over, and I am free.

My husband, Nicolás wasn't always like this. Before we were married he was the best thing that happened to me. He was always respectful, and my parents adored him. He was never mad for a long time and always asked for forgiveness. He'd never laid a hand on me until a year into our marriage. And that's where it went downhill. At home he abused me, physically and mentally. I wasn't allowed to leave the house unless I visited my parents or went to the store. He forced himself onto me multiple times and demanded we got children. Four years ago my beautiful daughter Emilia, or Mia, was born. Nicolás was furious when we found out the baby was a girl, but I was happy. If I had a son and he turned out to be like his father, I would hate myself. So we -he- tried again, and that's what lead us to today.

I found out two days ago that I was miscarrying but hadn't dared to say anything. But when I accidentally bled on the bed last night, he figured out what happened. He went absolutely nuts and started hitting everything in his way. Little Mia came into the room to look what happened. Even though this happened on the regular, Emilia was normally asleep at the other side of the house. "Don't come in sweetie, please go to your room." I said shaking and pleading, while my husband was still trashing things. Emilia looked at us with fear in her eyes and ran out before her dad spotted her.

Nicolás continued hitting me and started trashing his way to the living room and kitchen.

-----

"911, what's your emergency?"

"Uhm, hello." A small voice answered.

"Hey there sweetie, what's your name?"

"I-I'm Emilia Garcia. My daddy is angry."

"Your daddy? Is he hurting you sweetheart?"

"He is hitting things and I think he hurts my mommy." The girl continued.

"He's hurting mommy?"

"Yes. I think so. She looked sad and told me to go to my room."

The dispatcher wrote things down as she was connected to the police department to track the phone down.

"How old are you sweetie? You're being very brave."

"I'm this old." The girl said while holding up four fingers.

"I can't see your fingers baby."

"I'm four. Can you help my mommy?"

"Yes baby of course, has your daddy ever hurt you or mommy before?"

"I-I don't know. Maybe mommy."

The dispatcher was relieved to hear this and soon heard the Miami pd say they found her location.

"Is your dad yelling, still?"

"Uhm, yes." The little girl paused. "I don't hear mommy, is she okay?"

"I hope so sweetie, the police is coming your way. Do you know what the police is?"

"Good guys catching bad guys. I learned from mommy." She spoke proudly.

"Such a smart girl. Your daddy in being a bit bad right now, so the good guys are going to help your mom, okay?"

"Okay."

"Can you hear the sirens from the police car?"

"Yes, and I see them. Mommy is yelling too now."

"What are they saying?"

"Daddy is saying bad words and mommy is saying she didn't do it. What did she not do? Mommy told me to lock the door, is that okay?"