Welcome home

Wiping my tears away, I looked out the window and saw the families and loved ones of others still waving on the platform as the train pulled away from the station. I did not have a loved one out there, I didn’t have anyone here in the city. Not anymore. I started out alone in my booth, but it soon was filled with 3 other strangers due to it being a weekend and a busy travel day. An older woman in her late 60s sat down next to me and pulled out a mess of yarn and knitting needles from her old worn bag with a faint flower print still on it. She smelled musty with a hint of drug store perfume attempting to cover to stench. Across from us were two men wearing business suits in their 40s, chatting about an upcoming meeting and their proposal plans to a new company. I scooted my body as close to the window as I could, trying to isolate myself from everyone around me.

The train was noisy with all its individual conversations and commotion of kids not staying in their seats. I tried to focus on the blur of the buildings as we became closer to the edge of the city. ‘Ill never come back here’ I thought to myself. I opened my compact mirror and powder to make sure the makeup around my eye was intact and did not give away the events of the night before. I did an overall check to make sure my sleeves were covering the fingerprint bruises on my arms and adjusted my hair to cover the chunk missing on the left side of my scalp and smoothed my bangs over my left eye better.

I was 19 when I met my ex, I was a teenager in an unsettled home life. I had an uneasy relationship with my mom and siblings, I felt afraid of my stepfather and did not feel safe in my own home. When I first met him, I felt like he was saving me. He was 32 and at the time claimed to have just gotten out of a bad marriage and was heartbroken that his ex-wife would not let him see the kids which I later found out was a complete lie.

He was so confident and well put together. Incredibly handsome and fit, nothing like the boys I had tried dating before. At first, I didn’t recognize that I was being controlled, but now I can see that it happened very quickly. He isolated me from family and friends early in the relationship. Soon he was the only person I saw. My friends attempted to warn me about how fast we were moving in our relationship, but I thought who cares if were in love than why not be together? We moved away from the small countryside town, 6 hours away to the city of Chicago.

He convinced me it was us against the world, everyone was an enemy and out to get us. I would stay up at night for hours trying to convince him that we were ok and safe from harm. That a man in the grocery store didn’t look at us the wrong way or the neighbor wasn’t an under-cover cop. I didn’t even realize it was abuse when he hit me for the first time. I wanted to find a job, I put on a skirt and blouse to go job hunting in and he accused me of going to see another man. I remember lightly laughing it off thinking it was silly jealousy and turning around to face him and be greeted with a hard slap in the face. A slap so hard I hit the bedroom floor and was unconscious for minutes. He apologized and cried in my lap explaining that I was the best thing that ever happened to him and he couldn’t stand the thought of me leaving him during the day for work. Our love was stronger than anyone’s and we needed to be together at all times. I stayed. I forgave him.

Slowly he controlled everything from what I wore to what I ate to when I bathed. I wasn’t allowed to leave the house even to check the mail without him. I wasn’t allowed to have a cellphone or use the internet unsupervised. If we had to be apart he would plant a recording device in my purse or force me to carry it with me and if the times didn’t match up with what errand I was doing than I would be looking forward to a fight all night. He would scream and belittle me while I sat on the bedroom floor crying. Crying made him more upset but if I didn’t cry than I was accused of being a sole less monster who didn’t care about him. If I stood up for myself and fought back that’s when he would put his hands on me. If I tried to leave, he would beat me until I couldn’t move. He broke my leg once so I wouldn’t run away and had to depend on him for everything for weeks. When I healed, he told me I had to be grateful to him because he didn’t need to take care of me and I was lucky he stayed with me because no one else would ever want me.

Violence became an everyday occurrence whether it was physical, verbal, mental or sexual. I remember just staring out the window thoughtless, waiting to be told what and how to think or feel about something. I was scared to even escape in my daydreams. After 2 years of living like this, I didn’t even feel like myself anymore. I couldn’t even remember who I once wanted to be or what any of my goals and dreams were. The last night I spent in that house with him started off like any other night. He told me to cook him lasagna exactly how he previously showed me. I began cooking making sure I did everything right so he wouldn’t have any reason to be upset with me. I caught my reflection in the decorative mirrors in the dining room and thought I looked rough. I hadn’t been able to get a hair cut or wax my eyebrows and hadn’t bothered with makeup in ages. I decided to go in the bathroom and put on a bit of mascara and lip gloss. When I was finished, I sat on the toilet to quickly relieve myself before heading back to the kitchen to check on the food in the oven. Before I got up he pushed the door open so hard it bounced off the wall. I hadn’t closed it all the way because I know better. “Why do you have that shit on your face?” he eyed me suspiciously. “I just wanted to look nice” I murmured. “You’re planning on sneaking out when I am asleep later, you lying little slut” he accused. I don’t know what happened to my filter, but I just exploded. I couldn’t take it anymore. “Ya know maybe I will sneak out later and be a little slut since you always think that of me even though Iv literally never done anything for you to think that!” I shouted, I was still sitting on the toilet gathering toilet paper in my hands when he grabbed me on the side of my head and used his other hand, making a fist he punched me in the face repeatedly. I don’t even remember how many times. It didn’t even hurt at first, I just felt the impact of his fist against my face. He spit on me and ran out of the bathroom. I was dizzy and couldn’t see anything at first. I grabbed the wall next to the toilet to steady myself. Warm liquid was dripping off my face onto my lap. I blinked until I realized I had blood pouring out of my head. My breath quickened and I began to panic. I slowly stood up to look in the mirror above the sink. A cut going through my left eyebrow was so deep I could see the bone. I grabbed the hand towel handing up and pressed it to my head. I stumbled out to the kitchen to find him pacing. “I need to go to the hospital” I stated. “No! they’re going to lock me up! You stupid bitch! You set me up! You provoked me into doing that!” he kept pacing across the kitchen, I could see he was trying to think of something. “Im going to the hospital” I tried to walk past him, but he stopped me grabbing me by my throat. He squeezed so hard my vision was blurring. Just when I thought Id black out, he stopped and stepped back. He turned suddenly and started rummaging through drawers and pulled out a knife. He didn’t even think about it before stabbing himself in his right thigh. He turned to me and shoved the knife in my hand and started limping away screaming “She stabbed me!” Shocked I dropped the knife on the kitchen floor. I stood there paralyzed not knowing what to do. He went out the front door and into the busy street screaming that I stabbed him. I heard shouting and assumed our neighbors were calling the police. I backed up against the wall and slid down in a sitting position holding the towel to my face still. The bleeding had slowed down but I was covered in my own blood. Minutes passed and an older gentleman in a police uniform came inside and began asking me questions. I answered everything with complete honesty. I unfolded the events of the night and didn’t even leave out my outburst earlier that set him off. After questioning, paramedics swarmed me and began loading me onto a stretcher and washing my wound. When we arrived at the hospital more police were there waiting with more questions but had to wait until after I had my full exam, and my face was stitched up. 13 stiches later, x-rays and bloodwork, they were aloud back in to ask me their questions. “Miss, your x-rays have revealed multiple fractures that have never healed properly, has he hurt you previously than tonight?” I slowly nodded. ‘They believe me?’ hope shot through me. “We know you didn’t stab him, His story changed 3 times and from what we can see with these scans this looks like a long time of domestic abuse.” Tears streamed my face as I nodded more. An immediate restraining order was put into place and they charged him with assault.

           “Would you like anything to drink Miss?” My attention was brought back to the present. A woman pushing a cart full of assorted beverages offered me a drink and a bag of pretzels. I eagerly took them and packed them carefully in my bag. I wasn’t sure what the rest of my night was going to look like. A social worker at the hospital helped me call my aunt who I lost touch with over the years. Her and my mom didn’t get along because she doesn’t like my stepdad. I didn’t talk to her long, the social worker did most of the talking for me and explained I needed a place to stay.

           The train began to slow I couldn’t see much other than a thick forest of trees. A few minutes later a small town began to appear. It looked as though I had time traveled back at least 20 years. The buildings were all worn down and old looking with chipped paint. Colonial trim lined every house. Even the buildings in the center of town looked old and like they came out of a western movie. The train crawled to a stop and the platform came into view. I watched people hurry off to their families. Couples hugged and cried. Parents were reunited with their children and spouses. I waited until almost everyone else was off before getting up and stepping out myself. I slowly walked through the crowd that was dying down as people went home. Leaning against a fence gate I spotted my aunt who smiled at me immediately and opened her arms. I was surprised to recognize her so fast even though I hadn’t seen her in years. She still looked the same just a tad older. Long brown hair pulled back in a braid, off brand jeans and a flannel shirt paired with work boots. She always wore the type of outfit ready to work on a farm. “Im so glad you here!” she exclaimed wrapping her arms around me. I shyly hugged her “Thank you for this, I really appreciate it” I half smiled and pulled back to look at her. “It’s no trouble at all, you’re going to love it here! I can’t wait to introduce you to everyone. Of course, not right now, lets go home and get you settled.” I followed her to an old pick-up truck that roared when she started it. We drove away from the small town, passing fields of flowers and corn. We turned down a secluded driveway that had thick green trees canopying the road. So beautiful it felt like a movie. We pulled up to a big white farmhouse with blue shutters. A field to the left of the house was filled with roaming cows and the field to the right had a few horses trotting happily around. The truck came to a stop, as I got out, I was greeted by an old hound dog with ears he was practically tripping over. “Welcome home” my aunt beamed ‘Welcome home’ I repeated to myself and smiled.