For Her Kids

It had been 24 years since she had last seen it, but the place looked exactly the same.

When she left in 1996, she didn't care. She was done. Love would never find her again. She was 34. She was single, had two wonderful kids and a mountain of debt. She was content to keep on keeping on. She wanted nothing more than to watch her kids become decent humans. They were her reason. Nothing more, nothing less. They meant everything to her and they were why she made the decisions she made. Selfish? Perhaps. Smart? Very.

So many people tried to set her up on - oh, he's the best, or -he's so good looking - dates. She had no interest. Love was lost on her. She'd been alone long enough to know she liked it. She did worry about her kids growing up without a father, but that was just the way it was. There were plenty of wannabes. Guys who promised the world. Guys who said they liked her kids. All talk. No actions to prove otherwise. The dating world sucked. People were made of nothing. She wanted simple and honest. There was no such thing. It was all about appearances. She hated that. No, she despised that. Why can't people just be real. Why is that so hard? Why the masks?

But now, 24 years later, she had a choice to make. Go back and ruminate in the pain or keep going. Ruminate in the anger or keep going. She decided to take a look into her past. Because closure. Everyone needs it, right? That's what "they" say anyway. Do they really need it though? Does it really matter? She wasn't sure. She struggled with the decision. It was a big decision. Not one she was sure she wanted to make. She told herself she was on the other side of the pain. She told herself she was on the other side of the anger. Was she really? She was trying to be sure. She wanted to be sure. She had to take this step. She had to do this.

It looked normal. A house. A cookie-cutter house on a cookie- cutter street in a cookie-cutter town. Nothing more, nothing less. She knew though. She knew it wasn't normal. Nothing was normal about that place or the secrets it held. Everything about it put her on edge. Everything.

She got out of her car. She finally had a decent car. She scraped and saved and paid off her debt month by month. It took 15 years of the past 24 years of her new life. It felt like it took forever. It felt like she would never see light. She was determined, for her kids. She didn't want them to suffer. She wanted them to learn the value of hard work. She wanted them to learn to be honest. She wanted them to have morals and values that would take them far in life. The life they chose. The life they had to live. Their lives.

The house looked exactly the same, except the paint color had changed. Something more cheery and not so dark. Like that meant anything. It was still dark. It looked smaller now too. The neighbor houses seemed closer. She wondered why they wouldn't have been able to hear. A few windows had cracks in them. Small cracks that could turn into big ones with the first hit of cold weather. Cracks. Flaws in the exterior. Like her. She had a limp. A reminder of the last time. A reminder of the last beating. A life reminder of the final decision.

She struggled with the should I and the shouldn't I. What if she did. What if she didn't. She decided should and did. She was okay. She was benign of feeling. She would get through the mud. It was time to kick this can down the street. It was time to really move on. Not just go through the motions. She had to let it go. She had to put it all in the rearview mirror. This time. The last time.

The door was unlocked. Her hand trembled as she touched the knob and turned. She carefully pushed the door open. The smell smacked her in the face, not unlike the fist so many years ago. That smell. The kind of smell she would never forget. A reminder smell of something that never leaves. Whiskey and wood...and blood. She felt it and she could taste it. When she closed her eyes she could hear the yelling. The crying. The screaming. The kids. It was like watching a movie. A movie of her life and her escape from it. It looped and looped. The kicking mostly. The cracking of her ribs. The shooting pain down her leg. The blood. So much blood. The sound of the bat cracking and the wood splintering. That sound. Luckily it broke. Luckily it missed her head and hit the floor beside her. Luckily. She remembered looking out the window and thinking how pretty the moon looked. It was full and bright and orange. The sky was clear and it seemed like it was the only thing in the sky. She remembered wondering why nobody could hear the screams. Why couldn't they? The houses were close together, but nobody came. 

She felt the kicks. She felt the punches. Everything all over again. Everything falling back into place like a puzzle. All the times. All the drinks. All the drunks. So much disappointment and so much pain. So much sadness and so much indecision. Stay or go. Go or stay. The constant question for her. Choose. Make a choice. Now, not later. Make it. Do it. Why was it so hard to make a decision? What was there for her? What was there for her kids? Nothing. That was her answer. Nothing but pain. Nothing but suffering. Nothing but egg shells and what ifs. She yelled at the kids and told them to go to their room. She told them everything would be okay.

At that moment she made the decision. The no looking back decision. Her hand reached for the bat. Her fingers crawled across the hardwood floor to reach it. She latched on. It was broken. There was a shard of wood with a sharp tip. This was her decision now. This was the culmination of every single decision she had ever made in her life. But this decision was life or death. Death or life. Which one? Everything flashed through her mind. The what ifs. The hows. The whys. She had to do it. He was drunker than she had ever seen him before. He was lying on top of her now. He pushed himself up and was straddling her. She was on her back. All she could smell was whiskey. It made her want to vomit. All she could hear was his breathing. All she could see was his face. She saw his arm rise up and his hand was formed into a fist. She knew. She could see her decision clearly. Her kids or him. As his fist came down to smash into her face, she held the shard. He didn't see it coming. She pushed it into his neck as hard as she could. His fist came down on her face like a soft nudge. Blood was running everywhere. She pushed him off. She got up and made her way to the kitchen. Her leg wouldn't work and her ribs were killing her. She called 911. 

24 years ago she made a decision. She made a life or death decision. A decision to put herself first. A decision to keep going. A decision for her kids. A decision she never regretted, and that was all that mattered.