I Took the Beatings to Save My Baby

I Took the Beatings to Save My Baby

I didn’t want to cry

it was just the way my head hit the wall,

after his punch.

Our baby son sat in his cot, silently watching,

his tears falling,

yet he sat watching silently,

like he knew now is the time to be unseen and unheard.

I heard my finger crack

when he kicked me as I lay bleeding on the floor.

I just waited,

I knew he would go out and drink some more.

I had to get us out before he returned.

Ten minutes seemed like an hour.

Every part of my undernourished body hurt.

Although, my heart hurt the most.

I lay till the door shut with a loud bang.

The baby, as if he knew, let out a cry

crying he called “Mama.

I got up somehow, held him near.

I threw things we needed into the car,

we had two hours to vacate this hell.

It was raining as we pulled off the drive.

About a mile away, police stopped my car.

I was in too much pain to drive.

The car was wavering all over the road.

The police thought I was drunk.

When the officer saw me, he said,

Oh my God, let me phone an ambulance.

My face was covered in blood.

I got the words out, Husband.

He knew the rest.

After going over the baby,

the doctors said,

The social service will find a safe house for you both.

You can’t ever go back.

I smiled, tears still flowing like a torrent.

He never hit Joseph, our son.

Ever.

It was me he hurt when the baby cried too much

he never never the child.

That night, I had four stitches to my forehead,

a fractured finger.

So many kick marks—my back and belly were black.

We never returned.

We moved to Newcastle, miles away, started a new life

my baby and me.

All ties broken in case he traced me.

That was sixty years ago.

My son and me made it before he killed us both.

I remarried a good man who loved us.

Joseph has three children of his own.

If I had stayed, I knew next time he would have killed me,

probably us both.

I give praise to that police officer who saved me that night.

I thank God every day.

My second, a good man, died five years ago. My time is nearing too. I did however learn to trust again and love too. Deep inside and in my head though, I was damaged but kept it hidden in my story.

🆘My readers please not this is Not my story it’s not about me.❤️