Being Strong

I had come home one evening to a very abusive alcoholic, I had just finished working a total of sixteen hours. I had always worked two jobs since I was very young, because he could not hold a job down nor did he want to. We had three children together and I had to be able to support my family and was going to do whatever was needed to do just that. As I walked through the front door, I took my shoes off and went to sit in the recliner. This was a routine for me, from being on my feet all day. My three children ran over giving hugs and loving's to me as they had missed me throughout the day. Their father walks past me and looks at me as he's walking down the hallway nothing out of the ordinary. It was a hot night that night. As I looked at their father he had a sweatshirt on with shorts, I found it odd being such a hot evening but said nothing, just thought that it was weird, but honestly not another thought came to my head about it. Their dad was walking back up the hallway toward me, I could see him out of the corner of my eye. As he started walking toward me again, he was smooth I didn't even know what was about to happen. He got right in front of me like he was going to walk passed me, then all of a sudden swung around and grabbed a fist full of my hair. In front of our three children he began to punch me over and over again. I had lifted my arm trying to protect my face, I was only hit in the face hard one time. I could feel the blood running from my nose to my lip down my chin. My cheek was throbbing and a huge knot on the side of my head. All of this was instantly, I didn't even know what was going on. I was crying, fighting his every move trying to figure out what was my next move. My children and I had this routine where if any fights broke out they would get my keys and go to the car, lock the doors until they saw me coming. Once I could get free I would be there and we would leave. This night was a rough one, after he quit hitting me repeatedly, he wrapped his hands around my hair and was pulling me down the hallway, I was crying and he said to me face to face, not scared to hurt me. Their dad said I have this long-sleeve shirt on because I filled the bathtub up full of water to drown you and with this long sleeve on you will not be able to scratch me or my arms. Then I started screaming and fighting to get free, but it wasn't enough. I was scared, scared I was going to get drowned in the bathtub. I was tired of hurting and struggling with this pain, so many times I wanted it to end I thought this was it. As he pushed my head under water he was cussing and yelling. he pushed my head under the water again and he was so close to me, I could hear his words as my head was under the water it was very muffled but I could hear him. As he went to lift my head again, I was close enough I slammed my head back against his and busted his nose. His hands went up to his face, this was my moment to run. I ran to toward the back door opened it as fast as I could and ran for the car. My son had it the unlock as he saw me running toward him. I jumped in the car and started it and we left. Knowing this time I wasn't coming back this was my final drawl. I would take my chances of letting him track us down. We did drive by a week later and he had taken all our personal belongings or anything of ours and lit it on fire right there in my front yard. As hurt as I was to see our belonging burnt. It was the easiest move I could do. So we turned around, not knowing where we were headed it was the beginning of happiness.