The doctor sensed my dilemma and asked, “Mrs. Monroe, does your husband beat and rape you? Did he do this to you?”
I looked down at Samantha and began weeping. “I…I…can’t, he’s my baby’s father…and I…I…he’d kill me if he heard me talking to you. You just don’t understand…nobody understands…he’s under a lot of pressure all of the time and I get in his way…I do and say a lot of stupid things. I know he doesn’t mean to hurt me, he just…” I said with a shaky voice, “he just loses his temper once in a while. That’s all. He has a problem, but I know that he loves me and doesn’t mean it.” I could feel my soul rocking out from under me. What am I doing? Do I have a death wish or something?
The doctor seemed alarmed and pushed, “Mrs. Monroe, are you telling me that your husband beats and rapes you?”
As the doctor finished asking his question, Danny walked in. I looked past the doctor straight at Danny. His facial expression told me that he heard the question. This is it, Marilyn, it’s do or die time. “No, doctor. My husband does not beat or rape me. He’s a good man and he would never intentionally hurt me or my daughter,” I said calmly holding back my tears and staring straight into Danny’s eyes.
The doctor turned to face Danny and asked, “Mr. Monroe, could you please step out a moment while I speak with your wife?”
“No, I won’t step out a moment while you intentionally poison my wife’s thinking,” Danny challenged.
“Sir, you do realize that I’ll need to call security if you don’t cooperate?” the doctor retorted.
“You do what you’ve got to do, but I’ll have you know, that I will have my attorney here so fast that your head will spin. So, go for it, doctor,” Danny answered nastily.
The doctor turned back to me and stated, “Mrs. Monroe, I’ve taken it upon myself to contact the police. It’s obvious that you have been the victim of an attack. They’ll be here shortly to discuss the details of your attack with you.” The doctor gave me two prescriptions, one antibiotic and the other for pain. “You’ll be released after you’ve spoken with the police, okay,” he said turning to leave the room. “Good day, Mr. Monroe,” he said before leaving the room.
Danny came to the side of my bed with a fake smile on his face and began stroking my hair. “What did you tell that doctor?” he asked speaking between his teeth.
“I didn’t tell him anything,” I answered.
“If I find out that you told this fool doctor anything, that will be the last of you,” he threatened.
“He wouldn’t have been asking questions if you’d been nice last night. Instead of acting like an animal and roughing me up. You caused me to be here,” I quickly quipped.
Danny’s right hand was instantly around my neck applying slight pressure. I tensed up and Samantha began to stir. “Don’t be sarcastic or I’ll just have to show you, again, who the boss is,” he threatened with a smile on his face. The nurse walked in and Danny immediately slid his hand down to my breast acting like he was copping a feel. I flinched because my breasts were engorged and tender from Samantha’s not nursing all night. He leaned in and kissed me on the lips. The nurse was only in the room momentarily and then left. Danny squeezed my left breast until I cried out and then he also left the room.
Samantha was startled and woke up. I lifted her up close to my face and after sniffing her neck I tenderly kissed her. Together we both cried, cuddling each other into a peaceful state. Once Samantha was calmed down, I once again tried to nurse her and this time she latched on. “That’s my sweet girl, don’t you worry your precious little head. I promise you that this family of ours is going to make it. We are going to get through this trial and find true love at the end of it. I swear. Don’t you worry, my sweet girl, we’re going to find it,” I whispered.
When the police came, Danny, who had returned about fifteen minutes prior, tried situating himself in the room like a tough guy. His act didn’t work to his advantage, because they made him leave. Let me tell you, I’m glad he left without a fight, because these officers were not playing, they would have busted his butt and arrested him. Two male officers sat outside with Danny, while I sat alone with two female officers for about an hour and foolishly denied all the allegations made against my husband. They almost persuaded me to talk a few times, but I quickly caught on to their game and stuck with my stories. They informed me that they did not need my statement to arrest my husband for domestic violence. “That’s nice, so why don’t you do it? Why do you keep asking me to press charges?” I asked.
“Mrs. Monroe, it’s so much healthier for your psyche if you press charges against him,” replied one of the female officers.
I laughed sarcastically and asked, “How is it healthier if I press charges against him? Don’t you understand that this man will kill me if I make a statement against him?”
With that question, the officer pressed harder for information. She claimed that they would protect Samantha and me at all costs, if I decided to press charges against him.
“No thanks, I’ve heard too many stories about how the police were protecting a battered wife, who coincidentally ends up dead, days, months, years later,” I said sarcastically waving them away. This conversation was over. “If you guys want to proceed with charges against my husband, that’s fine, but you’re not going to get a statement from me.”
The officers looked at each other and one of the lady officers asked that Danny be asked back in. Danny came in wide-eyed and I could tell that he was very nervous. When he looked over at me, I shot him a smile, hoping that it would make him feel more at ease and would calm him down. It seemed to make him more nervous and he suddenly looked frightened.
The police told him to relax. They informed him that if they were going to arrest him, they would have done it already. They informed him that I was uncooperative and didn’t give a statement. They also informed him that I also denied that Danny is the one that is hurting me. One of the female officers got into Danny’s face and flat out told him that she believed that I lied and that they would be watching him. They read Danny the riot act. Danny looked like he had crapped his pants when the officer told him that if anyone says ‘boo’ about him, he was going to be arrested for domestic violence, assault and battery, and rape. The other female officer then turned to me and begged me to call her immediately if I needed to talk to her about anything. She handed me her business card and the police left. It was totally righteous.
The next few days were total peace. Danny almost acted human. He did and said nothing in an aggressive manner. He would leave early in the morning to go to work and would come home early. At first, he actually would stay home every night and sit in front of the television. He didn’t go out with his friends. He didn’t go anywhere. A few times, he helped me clean up the kitchen after dinner and he even helped me a lot with Samantha. He did this all without complaining about anything. Nothing…It was almost as if he were in shock. Of course, that only lasted until the weekend and then he was back to his old self. A little nicer, but back to his old self, regardless.
Over the next months, Danny would come and go as he pleased. Let me tell you, he was gone most of the time, which, I might add, was great. When he did come home, he was miserable. He couldn’t conceal his hatred of being around me. Of course, the rapes and beatings still continued, but none so severe that I would land up in the hospital again. He learned from his conversation with the police the last time and he definitely was afraid that I would call them if he went too far. For months, to no avail, he tried to find the business card the officer gave me. I hid it in a baby doll sitting on one of the shelves in Samantha’s room. He’d never find it in a thousand years.
Sometime after Samantha’s second birthday, I found out that I was pregnant again. I became so depressed that I wanted to die. I hated life and knew, for sure, that god was punishing me for all the bad things that I’d done in the past. Samantha was the light of my life, but the thought of having another child with this monster was
overwhelming.
I didn’t tell Danny right away, because I knew that he would be very unhappy. As the days passed, he couldn’t understand why I was so depressed. He tried his usual brutal methods of motivation, which obviously did not work, so he asked his mother to help me with Samantha. She was eager to help. I don’t know why, because she never showed interest in helping me before. Regardless, she came and helped me with Samantha. All I had energy to do was eat and nurse Samantha. I didn’t watch television, make conversation, nothing, all I did was sleep. Cathy did all the cooking and cleaning, because I just couldn’t. I was so depressed that couldn’t get out of bed to even take a shower. Everyday, Samantha would beg me to play with her, but I couldn’t. Sleep. I needed to sleep. Forever.
After a few weeks of this behavior, Danny had enough. He came home one day, picked me up and took me to the hospital. He wanted to know what was wrong with me. Boy, was he shocked when he found out what it was. He didn’t talk to me for days about it. As a matter of fact, he also began to question what the powers that be were up to. He would come in to our room and just stare at me. He would just stand there staring, not saying a word. Then he’d leave without saying a single thing. His mother continued to come and help. She would bring me my meals in bed and would sit with me to discuss the goings on. To no avail, she tried very hard to encourage me.
After a few weeks, Danny finally came in and sat down in the bed next to me asking, “Um, do you really want another kid?”
“No,” I responded honestly.
“Me neither,” he admitted. “Why don’t we look into getting an abortion?”
I shuddered internally and quickly stated, “That’s not an option. We’d be condemning ourselves to Hades if we did that. Are you crazy?”
“You’d be the one having it, so I wouldn’t be condemned to Hades at all, you would,” he replied nastily, “and besides I think it’s an option that we should seriously consider.”
“Danny, it’s out of the question,” I responded firmly.
“We’ll see about that,” he said in a huff and walked out.
Danny dropped the subject that day, but a few days later he brought it up again. I ignored him, which was probably the wrong thing to do, because he lashed out at me both verbally and physically. He got in my face and told me that I was going to have an abortion whether I like it or not. Once again, I dug my heels in and said ‘no’. He dragged me into the bedroom and viciously pummeled me with punches to my stomach and back. All the while I called out to his mother for help. I tried to protect my belly as best as I could, but he would then punch me in the breast or the face. Where was his mother? Didn’t she hear me crying for help? Samantha, where was Samantha? My cries fell on deaf ears. He didn’t stop punching me until I passed out.
That afternoon when I came around, Danny was gone. I lifted my nightgown to see the damage. I was bruised all around my abdomen, breasts and lower back. I stood up to call for help, but I immediately began cramping. Within minutes, I began to feel that I was bleeding pretty heavily. Again, I called out for Cathy and Samantha. Nothing. No one answered. Where could they be? Why would they leave me here like this?
When I got to the telephone, I dialed 911 and again passed out. Danny had gotten his wish. I had a miscarriage. Danny had killed our unborn child. I had such a mix of emotions, on one hand, I felt so guilty that I had not wanted this child and, on the other hand, I also felt relieved that I no longer was pregnant. May god forgive me, but I could not have another child with this man. This man who felt no remorse for any of the terrible things he did. He was truly an evil man full of nothing but hateful and hurtful things. My soul could no longer feel a bond with him. He was completely out of my heart…forever. Out of my life was going to be a different story.
The doctors wanted to admit me for a few days for observation, but I refused. After having me sign a hundred releases, they told me to look for signs that would indicate internal bleeding and signs that would indicate kidney failure, due to the blows I sustained to my lower back. The doctor gave me a prescription for an antibiotic and put me on bed rest for three days. I called Jenny and Paul for a ride and left. I don’t know if the hospital called the police or not, I didn’t care. Danny deserves all the maladies that god will one day unleash on him.
Cathy, my mother-in-law, was sitting in my living room watching television when Jenny and Paul brought me home. I asked them to stay with me for the next few days to help me with Samantha. I couldn’t trust Cathy. She betrayed me when she hid while her son pummeled me into a miscarriage. She didn’t even try to help me and, even now, I could feel her aloofness. She played dumb and surprised that I’d been out of the house for hours. I have no idea where she was hiding this morning, but I’ll never forgive her. For the next few days, she went about doing the housework like nothing, never asking why Jenny and Paul were there or why I was in the hospital the other day. She didn’t even ask why I was on bed rest. It was as if she knew and was either too scared to ask or she felt guilty for not helping me.
About a week later, Danny came home one morning and seemed totally surprised that I was still there. After he had settled in a few hours, I told him that I had a miscarriage and, can you believe, he smiled and hugged me complementing himself on “a job well done.” I ran to the bathroom and vomited. Can you believe the audacity? I sat in the bathroom and cried for hours.
Later on that afternoon, while watching television I asked him, “Are you going to be away this weekend?”
“Why? Do you have a date or something?” he asked sarcastically.
I’ve wanted to ask for a long time, so I just bravely threw it out there, “No, I thought that I’d take Samantha and spend the weekend with my mother. I haven’t seen her in a long time and I miss her. I think it would be nice for her to get to know Samantha a little.” I don’t know why I was compelled to see my mother…I just want her. It’s just that after this miscarriage, I’ve wanted to be with her…in her arms.
“You’re out of your mind. No,” he said without batting an eye.
I knew better than to get my hopes up. Well, I gave it a shot. I sighed and left the room. I went into Samantha’s room and sat in the rocker gently rocking back and forth, staring at Samantha, who was napping so peacefully. After a while, Danny came in and motioned for me to follow him. Immediately I felt that inner dread, oh no, not again.
I closed Samantha’s door behind me, expecting the worst. Danny was down the hallway heading to our bedroom. What did he want from me now? With my heart pounding in my chest, I followed. He told me to close the door behind me when I entered our bedroom. Obediently, I followed his directions. When he made his move towards me, I automatically flinched and closed my eyes. Within seconds, he had me pinned up against the wall and all I could think of was, not again, please.
He leaned in and gently kissed my neck. He slightly moved the neck of my blouse and kissed my collarbone. “You want to go see your mother?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said shaking my head. I was so frightened. He always put me through this type of slow torture before he slammed me. I didn’t know what to expect.
“Make love to me then,” he said backing away from me and removing his shirt.
“What?” I asked thinking to myself, I just had a miscarriage you jerk.
“You heard me…make love to me,” he repeated. I started to unbutton my blouse when he angrily pinned me up against the wall again and loudly said, “NO! I want you to make love to me…I don’t want you to have sex with me. I want you to make love to me, like you did when we first got married.”
I put my hands around his neck and pulling him down to me…I kissed him passionately. I gently nudged him away from the wall and began kissing his shoulders. I continued kissing him, concealing that I was repulsed every time my lips touched his body. Moving down his chest with my lips, I began unbuttoning his pants. While removing his pants, I gently pushed him down onto our bed and began slowly unbuttoning my blouse. Each button was a work
of seductive art that left him drooling for more. When I was stripped down to my panties, I turned my attention back on him and removed his underpants. I then turned the radio on and gave him a slow show. In my mind, I imagined him as he used to be before we got married and made love to him.
Afterward, he said, “Now that’s what I’m talking about. See, we still have love and compassion left in our marriage. Now wasn’t that nice?”
I nodded my head ‘yes’ and fought back the tears. I hated him. He made me sick to my stomach. This marriage has consumed my soul. I have to find a way to leave, because if I stay in this marriage any longer, it will also destroy my spirit. We snuggled for a couple of hours and then he asked me if I would take a shower with him. I agreed and to the shower we went. Once again, I gave him the performance of my life. A performance he’d remember.
Afterward, Danny turned to me and asked, “You really want to go see your mom?”
“Yes, I do,” I replied nodding. I said a quick prayer in hopes he’d let me go.
“I’ll think about it…okay?” he said turning over to go to sleep.
Once he was fast asleep, I got up and got dinner ready. Samantha woke up from her nap and wanted to play hide and seek, so I obliged. When Danny woke up from his nap, I served him and sat with him while he ate. Samantha was already fed and was in the living room watching television. When Danny finished eating, he went and played with Samantha a little bit. Around 8pm, he told me to put her to bed and while I was tucking her in, he got changed and ready for the club.
Counting the Days Page 11
