An ordinary Saturday, southern summer day, cloudless, humid, and HOT. With the house turned a frigid fortress against the sweltering, almost breath-defying heat, quiet household chores like dusting furniture and washing the floor stood ready for my attention.

The man of this domain arose in a decent mood this day, and peace prevailed. Ah, this is a positive sign.

Inside, I smiled and set about attacking my tasks, undisturbed, alone in my head, and thinking today will be peaceful, as an inaudible sigh rushed from my lungs.


A sudden and repeated BAM, BAM, BAM, shattered my peaceful and secret bliss. Startled, I ventured to the front door to address the urgent and determined caller. With my hand on the knob, my abuser’s fingers tightly seized mine, and together we greeted our visitor.

A tear-stained face stared into our eyes. “Oh, I’m so sorry to bother you, but Daniel hit me, and I need a place to stay.”

“Come in, come in,” we both chimed, as we shifted to the side to allow Kate to enter.

Kathleen, the only friend my control-freak husband, allowed me to have, eased through the passage, and began to pour out her guts.

Apparently, my lady-friend, who was the live-in partner of my hubby’s co-worker buddy, found herself in an abusive relationship. In need of a temporary sanctuary until her mind wrapped around her circumstances, and created a plan, our casa became her casa.



Though this woman and I shared a bond, neither of us spoke about our men to each other. The secrets never passed our lips. What Katie didn’t realize is she knocked on the door of another abuser.


The arms of my boss drew her to him, his words resonated with comfort and assurance as he whispered into her ear.

“Stay with us for awhile. Give this some time, and I’ll speak with Dan. Trust me, everything will be all right, and he won’t hit you again. Now, don’t you worry.”

Did I hear this man, the one who tears me apart emotionally, verbally, physically, and sexually dish out kindness/support to another victim of the same abuse he doles out? This is insane! My stomach wanted to heave ghastly chunky chunks all over his deplorable being.

The next few days, I peered at the unbelievable scene before me as the beast who pounded on me, berated me, turned and offered comfort to our temporary guest while urging her to return to her attacker.  This turned into a dance, and the monster became the consoler.


Silent, and engaged in my usual tip-toeing, bend backward for you mode for my controller, the scene captured me, worried me. What will she be returning to? How many times have I been lied to? He won’t hit you again? Yeah, right!

Still, the buried abuses held hush, hush for such a vast expanse of time, remained hidden, during, and after her arrival. To reveal meant to doom me to death, or so the mighty one promised with frequency.

Upon her departure, only words of best wishes and luck were spoken, and I didn’t comprehend the reality, but as she went out the door, the friendship I believed existed, also departed with her.

Within a year, via her not so wonderful ex, ole Danny boy, we learned she scurried away into the night with a new man.

Good for you Katie dear! Wish I possessed the nerve to up and vanish.


Of course, the warden of this prison viewed the event worthy of a formal life-ending punishment. “Off with her head. The dumb bitch doesn’t know how good she had it.”

Oh yeah, I bet the woman is really hurting now. Now that she has escaped her personal hell. Dang! Why can’t I be brave?



Knock, knock! This time the sound came from a policeman’s fist as he pounded our door for entry.  For the umpteenth time, the glorious men in blue responded to my summons for assistance.  With the situation scrutinized, the heroes piteously gazed into my pupils, and one spoke. “Please understand, we can’t protect you. Gather what you can and go into hiding.”


Wise words, and with the horrible truths unraveled for all to witness again, an insecure, frightened being, me, fled into the dusk of a crisp fall eve toward freedom like I had never known.

Knock, knock!

Who’s there?

Me, a secure, happy survivor, now that the stalking ceased, and Ms. Karma, without me lifting one finger, did her job.

Knock, knock!

Rap all you care oh evil one, against a door, a window, a brick wall, for all your racket falls on deaf ears now.


    • The escape is permanent except for the occasional gnarly head of a past demon poking its way into my night visions or some other such avenue.
      Thank you for commenting on “good writing” as I try my best each and every time I put thought to paper.

      Liked by 1 person

  1. Odd, but I never believed myself brave as I reacted mostly from fear. Only after revealing the horrible truths in my book, for all to witness, have I realized that a courage does live inside. Thank you!


  2. Well done You!.. It is far from easy to break away from such cruel abuse.. I have had so many friends of mine in the real world suffer similar fate.. Who never broke the chain.. Covering up bruises, but mainly they were inflicted where no one would see them.
    It takes courage to leave, and even more courage to speak openly about your experiences. In doing so you give others hope, that life does not have to be like this, that there is a light at the end of the tunnel.. But it has to be reached by making that first step, to leave.
    You are remarkable and I am pleased to meet you.
    Sue 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

    • Thank you. No, it’s not easy to exit an abusive relationship, and I remained in mine for 20 dangerous years. It took another 20 years before I faced the actuality of the horror, and I wrote a book about being a neglected, abandoned child destined to a life fraught with abuse. I can only hope others who are either in such a relationship or watching on the sidelines will somehow come across my tale. Perhaps then, some light/good will be derived from the dark and ugly.
      Thank you again, and I’m also pleased to meet you.
      By the way, I read your blog on love where there seems to be some question on the author. I wanted to comment, but I noted you had to close the discussion.
      Whether or not Einstein wrote the letter is a mute point, for the message is one for all humanity to share. The fact that some decided to take an attack mode saddens me. Kudos to you for attempting to illuminate the world.

      Liked by 2 people

      • Bless you, and my admiration to being a light to help others out of their dark situations.. Thank you Yes Einstein post caused me a lot of grief, as an army of FB followers who had re shared it, then proceeded to join in with their own abusive comments.. I never let them be published, but left the original attacker as I sort to clarify the intent of the post..
        Love it seems is so lacking when all that particular person could think of was that I posted it to boost my ratings.. Something I Never even think about.. Sad such lead such lives..
        So the comments I closed long ago.. The post itself I decided to leave up, Because LOVE is important to share and it made many who read that article think deeper ..
        Many thanks again.
        I hope you we discover more as we browse each others blogs.
        Sue 🙂

        Liked by 2 people

  3. Abusers are funny people aren’t they? And I don’t mean ‘ha ha’. The irony of the situation beggars belief! I know this is your story, but I just wanted to add another side to how abusers react to hearing about others being abused. As you know I lived in an abusive home (as a child, not a spouse), and one day (I was about 11/12), my adult cousin turned up on our doorstep with her two young sons after having been beaten by her husband. My two small cousins were obviously extremely upset and emotional about what had happened indoors and were complaining how their father had hit their mother, to which my father replied: “it’s his right to hit her”. HIS RIGHT??!!! Of course, I’m a child at the time and I could say nothing. I just listened in horror. My mother stood by along with my small brother – and they remained mute too.
    I’m happy and thankful you have escaped, as you already know. It takes such bravery. It’s not easy to leave an abuser. As a child I often wondered why my mother didn’t just leave – but I know now that it isn’t that easy. As a child, I thought that I would never put up with such violence if I were an adult, but it doesn’t work that way. However, I too am glad that we all managed to escape in the end even though it takes years, much planning and courage.

    Liked by 1 person

    • From my earliest memories, abuse, abandonment, and neglect made up my life. It took nearly an entire lifetime, but I am finally free, and am able to scream at the insanity through the pages of my book, A Good Little Girl.

      Liked by 1 person

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