by Sienna Grant
Becka - How are you, hun?
Me - Not too bad, thanks. You?
Becka - How’s the face, has it gone down?
Me - Yeah it’s not bad!
Becka - Why do you do that?
Me - Do what?
Becka - Play it down like it doesn’t matter?!
Me - Because, I’m ok! Look I’m gonna get some sleep, Grady’s already down and I want to be asleep before that piece of shit comes home!
Becka - O.K. babe. Speak soon. Night. If you need me, ring me. Love you! <3
Me - Night, will do, love you too. <3
She always calls me out on my bullshit even over a text. I don’t know how she does it. I wish I could tell her just how bad it really is, but it’s not fair for her to worry about me. I’ll be out of here soon enough, as long as everything goes to plan.
I get up to go in the shower and get ready for bed. I’m so full of bruises at the moment I could play dot to dot. I make the shower as hot as I can and just let the water run over me. I wash my hair and body and all at once everything becomes too much, I slide down the wall of the shower and sit on the floor, I wrap my arms around my knees and cry. Cry for everything, the fucked up situation I’m in, Grady, and also the fact that I could be on my way to freedom tomorrow.
God, I hope so.
I’ve cried so much today I’m surprised I have any tears left. That’s it I WILL NOT cry anymore he doesn’t deserve my tears.
After that cathartic release of emotion, I step out the shower and get into a vest top and a pair of shorts and get into bed. I check my emails first, I’ve got one from the landlord I contacted earlier, he tells me that I can have a viewing of the flat the day after tomorrow.
Tomorrow’s the day: FREEDOM.
I wake a couple hours later to hear a door slam and someone bumping into things. Great Paul’s back and he’s drunk. I hear him clumsily climbing the stairs…please don’t get into bed…pleeeease! The door opens with a bang as it hits off the wall while I stay as quiet as I can. He drops down on the bed and spoons me from behind. I feel his hand roughly grab my breast from behind, and he pushes his knee up to part my legs.
“Oi, Lex, are you awake, or have I got to help myself?” he says slurring. He makes me feel sick, I can smell the liquor on his breath.
“Oiiii, I’m talking to you, you, frigid bitch.” I stay as still and quiet as I can and keep my breathing even as he gives me a shove in the back, I feel him roll to his back when he realises I’m not going to answer him.
Sick bastard!
“I wouldn’t wanna fuck you anyway, you, fat fuck,” he says sneering. Before I know it, he’s snoring and I can breathe a little easier knowing he won’t be waking up for a while.
I awake to hands grabbing at me. I push them off of me and roll to the side of the bed so I can get away from him. He kneels up, grabs my hair pulls me backwards. He crawls over me, and I try to sit up, he pushes me back down on the bed and looks down at me with an evil look on his face, his eyes are black and for the first time in a long time I’m scared.
I scramble back toward the headboard and lean my back against it, as if I’ll just disappear if I push hard enough. If only I could.
The tears are streaming down my face, as I feel myself being yanked down the bed by my ankles. He sits on my legs so I can’t move and rips my vest top off of me and grabs me roughly. I feel his mouth on my breasts, and then I feel his teeth nipping sharply, all the time I’m trying to push him off of me with my hands.
“Paul, please don’t.”
“Shut up, bitch. I’m gonna show you not to fuck with me!” He grabs my hands and presses down on my wrists and pushes them into the mattress, so my whole body is pinned down.
I’m crying, hysterically, telling him, asking him to stop, but he doesn’t. Grady is crying in his cot, he kneels up and grabs my two hands, puts them above my head and holds them with one hand. Paul uses the other hand to drag my shorts down, awkwardly, he then grabs my leg, pulls it up to open me up more and rams himself into me.
I scream, it feels like he’s ripped my insides out! I’m trying to fight him off but I can’t. I’m stuck, and Grady is screaming.
“Paul, please, I need to get to Grady.” He ignores me as he’s pushing himself so hard into me. I feel sick. I feel his teeth on my breast as he bites down.
I began screaming so loud I think the whole street must hear me, or rather I hoped they could.
“Shut the fuck up, stupid slut!” He thrusts harder and harder, I’m in so much pain, I feel like I’m going to pass out, but I don’t. I’m crying uncontrollably, but you can’t hear my cries, I’m mute, just tears falling helplessly down my cheeks.
I’m left a sobbing mess on the bed, my breast is bleeding where he bit me, and I’m so sore, I can’t move. Grady is screaming now, and I want to go to him but I can’t. I feel Paul get off the bed - he’s just standing there watching me.
“I don’t know why I ever married you, you always were a lousy lay. Cunt.” I hear him shuffling around getting his clothes. He gets dressed and walks out of the room. Five minutes later, I hear the front door shut and I let out a huge sigh of relief.
I turn on my side and wrap my arms around myself, and I cry, shaking until I have no tears left.
I drag my battered and bruised body off the bed. Grady has had to cry himself to sleep, I just couldn’t get up to hold him. I can’t do this anymore. He will NOT stop me from leaving, now more than ever. I’m numb, I can’t believe he would actually go that far! The bastard raped me! I cry again. I can’t feel anything. My emotions are locked up tight, I need to protect myself.
I walk in the bathroom, stand in front of the sink, fill it with water and prepare to bathe my breast. I’m sore everywhere, I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus. It’s so painful, it stings as the water runs down the teeth marks. I grit my teeth and carry on.
Once it’s clean, I get the first aid kit and get a plaster to cover it. Taking a deep breath, I put on a vest top and go back into the bedroom. I gather the bag out of the wardrobe, so I can put the last few things into it. I go downstairs, pop the kettle on and prepare Grady’s breakfast. I make myself a cup of tea, take some paracetamol for the soreness in my body.
I do some breakfast for myself, before running upstairs and waking Grady up, usually, I let him wake himself, but not today. I need to be out of here today as soon as I can. We spend half an hour having breakfast, I clean up in the kitchen before taking Grady upstairs to get him washed and dressed. I put my hair in a messy bun get in comfy clothes, jeans, casual shirt and converse.
With Grady on one hip, I grab the bag with the other hand and carry both down the stairs. I’m putting bottles in the bag and powdered milk and the rest of the essentials in the changing bag that Grady will need for the next day or so until I can get some more. I’m rushing around the kitchen, I hear a door shut and my stomach drops.
“Oh no!” I whisper nervously as I turn around in the direction of the door. Paul is stood in the doorway with a face like thunder.
“What the hell are you doing?” he booms.
“I’m leaving you, and you can’t stop me,” I say trembling. I’m watching the movement of his hands because I know what’s going to come next.
He steps closer to me so his breath is my face, I can smell alcohol; is that why he’s home? I try to take a step away, but he grabs me by my hair and yanks my head down.
“Paul please don’t…” I sob to him, but he takes no notice. He drags me into the sitting room by my hair and pushes me into the room.
I hit the floor and see his feet coming towards me, he kicks me in the stomach, I’m struggling to get my breath, when he drags my head up by my hair again, he’s holding my hair tightly in his fist. He pulls it so hard that I scream. He backhands me for my feeble screams and throws me on the floor again.
He kicks me again and again until I’m screaming so hard my throat is raw. He sits on top of me and grabs my head and bangs it off the floor re
peatedly. I can feel myself starting to go woozy, I try to get up but I can’t, I feel the weight lift off me, and I try to crawl towards the coffee table to help drag myself up, and he kicks me again – hard! So hard, that I lose my balance and I hit my head on the corner of the table.
I can hear shouting and screaming and somewhere I can hear sirens, but it can’t be here. I hear Paul yelling at me, telling me that I’m not going anywhere and that he warned me. I realise I can hear Grady crying!
Grady! Oh, my god my baby. I need to get to him… but I can’t move.
Oh God, someone help me, please.
CHAPTER FOUR
ALEXIA
Ouch, my head hurts.
I rub my head, but it’s wet. I look at my hand, and all I see is red.
Blood. My blood. That bastard!
I look towards where the voices are coming from and look up to see a man crouching over me, looking at me with sad eyes.
“Hi, Mrs Benton. I’m Officer Smith, we had an anonymous call from one of your neighbours. How are you feeling?” he says softly.
“My head hurts. Where’s Grady, where’s my son?” I reply shakily.
“He’s right here. Don’t worry, he’s fine. He’s a happy little soul, once we settled him, that is,” says the officer.
Another Officer steps into the room with a wet towel, and he places it softly over the cut and applies pressure to my head. “Can you tell me what happened, Mrs Benton?" the Officer asks.
“Call me Alexia, please. He attacked me; I was leaving him. It’s been going on for a while, about 12 to 18 months ago he started being violent. But I’ve had enough of the constant abuse. In the last few weeks, his behaviour has become worse. I was hoping to be gone by the time he came home, but for some reason, he came back early. Is he still here?” I ask nervously. My throat is sore from shouting and screaming and body aches from being beaten.
“He’s in the police car. Don’t worry, Alexia. He can’t hurt you now. We need to take your statement. Do you want to press charges?” asks the Officer.
“Yes, I do. I’ve hidden enough bruises, I’m not doing it anymore,” I say with determination.
“That’s very brave of you. A number of domestic violence victims we come across every single day who refuse to press charges is off the charts,” he replies sadly. I look at him with a sad smile on my face.
“Yeah, well, I don’t want to be another statistic and what kind of example am I showing to my son. It’s not fair to him to grow up around a situation like this. I need to get out of here while I can.”
I spend the next half an hour or so telling the officer what’s been happening and also the events that occurred today. Paul’s already been taken to the Police Station so I feel a bit safer, and after I’ve persuaded the nice Officer that I don’t need the hospital, they left.
I take the First Aid Kit from out of the cupboard so I can clean my face up, and put a couple of steri-strips over my cut. It’s situated just above my eyebrow but to the right near the temple, and I know that it’s going to leave a scar. I ring a taxi to take us to the Train Station and then make sure everything’s in the case and the changing bag for Grady. I make sure he’s got juice and some snacks to eat, then sit down with him while he sleeps in my arms.
As he sleeps he snuggles into me, so I hold him a bit tighter. Today could have been so much worse, I could have died today when I hit that table. I’m surprised I haven’t suffered any long term damage from how hard he hit my head on the floor. I lay a sleeping Grady on the sofa and go and take some paracetamol before the pain gets any worse and sit back down.
I loved this house when I moved in. Bay windows in the sitting room with an open plan sitting/dining room all decorated in neutral colours, beiges and browns. French doors open out from the dining room onto the concrete patio. The garden wasn’t big, but I didn’t care because I loved the house.
I’m dragged out of my thoughts when I hear a car pull up and beep his horn outside the house. I get up lay Grady back down while I take the pushchair and bags to the car and then come back to get Grady. I lock the house for the last time and post the keys through the letterbox.
Bye Paul, you, sadistic bastard!
I pay the driver and thank him. He gets the bags from the boot, and he helps me with the pushchair for Grady. I place him in and grab the handles on the case and put them over my arm, so I can push the pram and then place Grady’s bag over his chair. At the ticket office in the station, I buy the next available ticket to Romford in London.
Grady wakes while we’re waiting for the train so I give him some juice from the bag and some toys to play with to keep him occupied. We have an hours wait until the next available train and Grady’s getting bored, he wants out of the pushchair.
“Grady, you have to stay in there a while sweetheart. Let’s have a look in the bag and see what we’ve got here for you.”
Thankfully the train arrived early. We only waited for 45 minutes so I stand and grab our things and walk towards the edge of the platform, so as I can push the pram on. Once we’ve found somewhere to sit, I take Grady out sit him down, fold down the pram and lie it under the seat and sit with Grady on my lap so he’s straddling me and we play for a while. He leans forward and puts his cheek against my chest, and I hug him close to me. I can feel myself filling up with tears as I hold him and I make a vow to myself that I won’t cry anymore. I stand him on my legs, and he puts his little hand over my lips, so I kiss it and then kiss his beautiful face.
“Freedom, Grady, freedom.” He looks at me, smiles and starts bouncing on my legs and begins to babble.
I know how you feel Grady. It’s just you and me now.
After being on the train for three hours, I can’t wait to get off and stretch my legs. As we’re pulling into the station I make sure we’ve got everything and put Grady’s shoes back on, he’s developed a habit of taking them off, all the time. Once we’re settled, and the doors have opened, we get off the train with the rest of the passengers. I unfold the pushchair and place my boy inside it before heading out of the station.
I stand outside the station, looking through my bag for the address of the bed & breakfast and it hits me, I’m free at last. The whole day has felt surreal, after years of abuse I’m at peace, my own person again. No-one to control me anymore. I crouch down and look at Grady with a smile on my face, kiss his chubby little cheek, and he beams at me. Once I’ve stood, I take hold of the handles and start walking towards the taxis’. I realise I’ve been so detached from my emotions that I’d forgotten how to smile. Now I work on finding me again.
This is it, Grady. Our new life.
CHAPTER FIVE
ALEXIA
I get out of the taxi and pay the driver, put Grady in the pushchair and head towards the bed and breakfast. The driver drops my bags by the door for me. After thanking him, I head inside. The woman at the front desk is short in height she has a welcoming look on her face, I smile at her.
“Hi, can I help you at all?” The friendly looking woman behind the counter says to me. She instantly puts me at ease. I put a smile on my face as best as I can.
“Hi, my name is Alexia Williams. I’ve got a room booked for the next three nights for my son and I.”
“Yes I have you here, I’ll show you to your room. Yours is room number 10. I’ll grab your bags.” She hands me my key, I take Grady out of the pushchair, fold it down, and I follow her up the stairs.
As we reach the top, she turns and says, “What brings you here, just a break?” I keep my head downwards.
I reply rather sheepishly, “I’ll be moving here. I’ve got a flat to view tomorrow, so hopefully, everything will work out.”
She looks at my face, and I can see her trying to work out the reason to the bruises and a cut above my eye, all the bruising is coming out now too so I have sunglasses on, I look away. She looks at me again with pity in her eyes, and I hate it.
“I hope everything works out for you honey. My name’s A
lice and my husband is Philip, although he’s at work at the moment. If there’s anything you need, or for the little one, please don’t hesitate to ask. He’s a cutie, what’s his name?” she asks with a smile on her face.
I look at her smiling and say, “Grady. He’s nine months old.”
“Well, he’s gorgeous. Right then, I’ll let you get yourself settled, Alexia. Don’t forget if you need anything, I’m around.”
“Thank you, Alice, we appreciate it,” I say as I unlock the door.
I step into the room, and it’s pretty basic. There’s a double bed, neatly made. A chest of drawers in the corner, a new 32-inch television is fixed to the wall and some tea and coffee making facilities on top of the drawers. The room is clean and freshly decorated in light neutral colours and has an en-suite bathroom. There’s a bath and a shower, so at least I can bathe Grady.
I put him on the floor to explore as he’s now crawling, put the bags on the bed and shut the door. I start to hang some of my clothes up so they don’t crease anymore, put Grady’s clothes in the drawer and then make myself a coffee. When I’m settled I grab Grady off the floor and pull him up onto the bed with me, we play for a little while until I can see him getting sleepy. We lie back on the bed chest to chest, he nestles his head in, and I can see his eyes starting to droop. I smile at him gently.
“I love you, baby.” I get a little sigh in return and let him drift off to sleep.
Once he’s asleep, I lie him in the middle of the bed and sit up to finish drinking my coffee and get my phone from my bag. On my home screen, I see a missed call from an unknown number so I cancel it off and check my messages; there’s three from Becka.
