It was so dark. And quiet. Sara couldn't remember a time in her life when their house had been this quiet. Lying alone, fully dressed but shivering on the sofa, she tried to put the pieces of the day together, tried to get her confused mind to figure out exactly what had happened that day.
The morning had been normal enough. It was Friday. She was home because her new job didn't start for another week. The kids had done their morning chores and started their schoolwork, as usual. He had seemed agitated and antsy, but that hadn't been anything out of the ordinary. He'd been that way for months.
The first sign of trouble had been his suggestion, out of the blue, that they go out on the motorcycle. She'd asked why he wanted to go out at 10:30 in the morning, but he'd seemed angered by her question, so she'd quickly agreed. As they'd put on their helmets, he'd said he wanted to return the car they'd borrowed from the pastor and his wife. "Follow me in the car," he'd ordered, "and hurry up. I have things to do today."
Sara jolted back to the dark room as she heard a noise outside. Terror washed over her. She rose nervously from the sofa and walked around, looking into each dark and empty room downstairs. The dog followed her expectantly and sat down beside her when she stopped in the front room. She checked the lock for the third time and stared out the door into the now-dark yard, feeling so alone, so scared, so uncertain about what would happen next. She pressed trembling fingers to her lips, seeing again the flashing lights from the police cars that had surrounded their property just hours before. Thank God he hadn't...but she couldn't let herself complete the thought. She forced herself to go back to the sofa and lie down, willing the clock to tick faster, willing it to be morning. It was 2:30am.
She'd climbed into the car that morning, her helmet on so she'd be ready when they reached their destination in 15 minutes. Lately he'd gotten angry whenever he'd had to wait for her and his impatience set her nerves on edge. Putting the car into reverse and looking carefully over her shoulder, she began to back out onto the road. She heard the squeal of motorcycle tires and spun her head around just in time to watch him roar off, going dangerously fast up the curvy road.
Her thoughts spinning, she'd driven quickly and carefully behind him, watching his erratic movements on the bike. She tried to think of a way to get out of riding back with him, but barring an out and out refusal, she could think of nothing. She'd thought maybe talking to the pastor would calm him down before they started back for home.
She'd watched him pull into the driveway too fast, braking hard enough to leave a skid mark in the packed dirt. She'd put the car in its normal spot, turning everything off and putting the keys above the visor. She'd gotten out and approached him on the bike. He'd revved the engine loudly and snapped his head to the side, impatiently motioning for her to get on.
"Aren't we going to go in?" she'd yelled.
"I already told you that they weren't going to be home. Now get on!" he'd shouted.
She'd swung herself up into the rear seat and turned on her helmet intercom. "Please drive carefully," she'd nearly whispered.
"I'll drive however I damn well please, bitch," he'd retorted, before reaching up to turn off his intercom. She'd held onto the seat strap as he tore out onto the road, and she'd said a quick prayer for her own safety. Sobbing quietly in fear for her life, she'd leaned left and right as he'd swerved maniacally at high speed. When the bike fishtailed, she'd subconsciously grabbed for his waist. He'd braked suddenly, skidding them to the side of the road.
"Get off," he'd bellowed from under his helmet. "I don't want any moody bitches riding with me."
"No, please" she'd whimpered. "We're still at least five miles from home. Just slow down and I'll stop crying."
"I said, get off!"
She hadn't tried to plead her case. She'd climbed off the bike as he sped away, spraying dirt and pebbles back at her. She'd stood still at first, dumbfounded, and then started walking.
As Sara had walked along the side of the road, she'd stopped trembling and felt herself get angry. How dare he! After all, it had been her paycheck that had paid for that motorcycle, those helmets and the intercom system just the month before. She'd taken off her helmet and tucked it under her arm, letting her anger gather steam. But then, she'd thought, it was her money that paid for nearly everything, while he worked a pitiful part time job a few hours a night driving bus. She was tired of his controlling ways, tired of walking on eggshells, tired of being afraid.
Her mind returned to the week before, when she had finally worked up the nerve to call the domestic abuse hotline her boss had referred her to.
"Sara, you can't keep going like this," Nancy had said to her quietly. "It's clear he's getting worse and you can't keep denying it. One of these days he's going to snap and hurt you or your children."
She'd stayed quiet and let the words sink in, wondering how much to disclose. It was her last day at the job and she was going to miss her colleagues. She wouldn't have left the position she'd loved, but he'd come into the office once again that month, cursing and shouting obscenities at her boss and anyone else within earshot. He had cost her the job, and although she'd felt the sting of unfairness, she'd understood why Nancy had faced no other choice but to terminate her employment.
"Nancy," she'd started to cry, "I have to get away from him, but I don't know how. I have six children, no where to go, no money..." she'd trailed off, sobbing. When Nancy had wrapped her arms around her, Sara had let out everything that had been building up for months. "He's been so mean to me and the kids. He's unpredictable and moody, and I don't know what to do anymore."
After she'd calmed down, Nancy had walked her to her inner office, where they'd used her phone to call the county domestic violence hotline. She'd set up an appointment with a DV counselor early the following week when she could slip away without him. She'd had to make up a story about having an exit interview for work, as the counselor suggested. She couldn't tell him about it, and the counselor said they'd make a safety plan at the appointment.
"Whatever you do," she'd been cautioned, "don't tell him you're planning to leave. Just do whatever you have to do to keep the peace and keep him placated until we can make a plan for you and the children to leave safely."
That same night, Sara had logged onto the secret e-mail account she'd created. Her husband had insisted on knowing all of her passwords and it was part of his routine to check her bank account, her credit card account, her work and personal e-mails and the internet history each night when he returned from work. She'd quickly e-mailed the friend she'd made online three months before. She still had no idea what the man's name was, as they'd both used pseudonyms in the chat room. What had started out as mindless chitchat during an online game had turned to serious talk as he had sensed her problems. Desperate for someone to talk to, she'd poured out her story to this faceless, nameless stranger who'd claimed to be a therapist. She hadn't cared at the time if he really was a therapist or not, she'd just needed someone who could listen. He had and he, too, had urged her to get out of her living situation as soon as possible. She wanted him to know she had made the appointment.
To: justin2110
From: busybee70
Subject: I did it
Hey friend. Just wanted to let you know I made the appointment today. I'm meeting with a domestic violence counselor on Monday to make a safety plan. More later. Gotta go.
As Sara continued down the road that morning with her helmet under her arm, she'd thought how timely making that appointment had been. At that moment, she'd known she had to get away from him, and the sooner the better.
She'd heard the sound of the motorcycle approaching before she'd seen it come into view. Sure enough, it was him, coming back for round two. She'd braced herself and told herself to stay calm, no matter what.
He'd turned the bike toward the side of the road and started coming straight at her. She'd moved as far off the road as she could but the headlight got bigger and bigger as he approached her at full speed. Sara gasped, closed her eyes, and put her hands out to brace herself for the impact. She heard the squeal of brakes and opened her eyes in time to see the bike slide just to her right as she felt his sleeve brush hers.
"Get on, you little whore," he'd shouted.
"No!" she'd refused.
"I said, get on!" he'd yelled.
"I'm not going anywhere with you," Sara yelled back. She knew it wasn't what the counselor had told her to do, but she'd been afraid to get back on.
When he'd started to put the kickstand down, she'd frozen in terror. If something happened to her here, in the middle of nowhere, her kids would be alone with him, she'd thought. She had to get back on and get back to the house to protect them.
"Okay, I'll go," she'd said meekly, as she got on the bike and fastened her helmet quickly. "But can we talk when we get home? I'm sorry for whatever I did to make you angry this morning."
She'd hated herself for apologizing. She'd told herself it wasn't going to be much longer and that she only had to give these last few performances for her kids' sake.
He'd said nothing, but went slower on the remainder of the drive. When they arrived, he'd announced that he was going to bed and didn't want to be disturbed until it was time for him to go to work that evening.
"Thank God," she'd muttered under her breath.
Pulling herself back to the present, Sara sat up again on the sofa. Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was almost 4:00am and she still hadn't slept. With all that had happened before noon, she should have seen this coming. She should have left while he was sleeping, she thought now in hindsight. If she had, none of this would have happened. She and her children would be together and she wouldn't be here, all alone. With fresh tears streaming, she rocked herself back and forth and wondered if her life was ever going to be the same again.
(To be continued...)
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