Hope

Trigger warning: abuse, miscarriage

Liz puts a coffee pot on the stove. She does not want to be late for her meeting with a new client. She has read the file twice to prepare for the meeting. It has bare minimum details of her client but still Liz could instantly relate with her. 

Liz thought of her own life over a decade ago. The police visits have been more frequent since their neighbors started to complain about the noise. The police would sometimes give Charlie, her ex-husband a warning or take him to jail. He was almost always set free. It started as verbal abuse at home with yelling and name calling. Then came the taunts and insults in public. As time passed, things escalated and he started hitting her. Trips to the emergency room for broken ribs and concussions became more frequent. There were times when she came to work with new bruises or black eyes. Liz’s friends were worried about her but she put up a brave front and never confided in anyone. Things worsened and she was eventually fired from work for being late or “calling in sick” too many times. Then, one day all hell broke loose. 

She can never forget the visit to the hospital that changed her life. She had intense abdominal pain. The emergency room was busy and noisy when she heard her doctor calling in a STAT request for surgery. She sensed something was terribly wrong. Even behind the mask, she could see the concerned look on her doctor’s face. She felt cold as the warm blood trickled over her inner thighs. She required an emergency surgery but the blood loss was already too much. The next thing she remembers is her doctor gently holding her hands and saying “I am sorry, we could not save the baby.” 

Liz was 18 weeks pregnant and despite what she has been through, she hoped that maybe the future was better. She secretly wished for a baby daughter who she would name “Hope.” When the doctor told her it was a baby girl that she lost, her eyes welled up. 

Hospital staff completed the rest of the formalities but Liz was numb to whatever they were saying or doing around her. They had reviewed her chart indicating multiple prior visits. She was a classic case of a battered woman. A kind social worker asked if they can contact a family member or a friend who she felt safe with but Liz could not think of anyone. She was not certain of anything anymore except one thing, that she needs to leave Charlie. Well, it wasn’t the first time that she thought of leaving him. After each hospital visit, she met with a counselor. They also followed up with her frequently but Liz downplayed what she was going through. Afterall, Charlie was the “love of her life.” 

“Well, not anymore” she said to herself. She moved to a safe house after recovering from her physical injuries. Emotionally, she was a wreck and there was no telling when she would start feeling like herself again. Where does one even start and will she ever feel sane again. 

Eleven years have gone by. Liz opened a non profit organization named “Hope” in memory of her unborn child. She still attends group therapy. She completed vocational training and teaches children of other victims. She is closely involved in community outreach programs and inspires other women to speak up against domestic abuse. Liz is in a true sense, a fighter and a survivor.

The sound of the coffee pot whistle jolted Liz back to present. She hurriedly picked up her coffee and left for the shelter where she is meeting her new client, a young woman named Cara. Liz had spoken with the out of state social worker who helped Cara move out. Liz does not know if Cara is her real name or an alias. It does not matter. What matters is that Cara survived a fall from the 3rd floor of a building but her fiance, the perpetrator did not. They both took the plunge when he pushed Cara but lost his footing and fell. With the perpetrator dead, Cara perhaps did not have any threat to her life but she still requested to move out of her hometown. Maybe she wanted to leave it all behind and start fresh.

Cara reminded Liz of herself. Similar height, brown hair and eyes and olive complexion. She seemed like a younger version of Liz. Liz greeted her warmly. She is gentle when approaching trauma victims and lets them open up. There is no reason to rush or to re-traumatize them. She asked Cara what sort of things does she like to do. They spoke about the city and the weather. Liz made sure that she felt safe and welcomed. 

Cara told Liz a bit about herself. Her parents were deceased and she was estranged from her siblings. She and her fiance had been together four years. They met at a club where she was a dancer. There was an instant chemistry between them when they first started dating and getting engaged seemed like a natural next step. She did not notice in the beginning but gradually, the drinking increased and so did the shouting and beatings. Cara had to stop dancing when he pushed her from the stairs and she broke her ankle.  With no source of income and no family, she had nowhere to go to.  She silently suffered and then one day he threatened her with a gun. Cara fled the house and obtained a restraining order. But her resolve to stay away did not last in front of his boyish charm, lies and deceit. Soon, it became a vicious cycle. 

Everytime Cara believed, maybe things will be different this time. Eventually she  gave up trying until that fateful day when he came home drunk. He started screaming and hitting her.  Cara did not fight back and maybe that’s what made him angrier. He pulled his gun and aimed at Cara. That’s when the adrenaline kicked in and she fled to the balcony. He charged at her and pushed her off the balcony and that’s when he lost his balance. As Cara was losing consciousness, she could hear a loud thud next to her.

Liz let Cara finish her story. She paid attention to each and every word but it was something at the end that struck her the most and instantly she knew that they shared more than just a history of trauma. Cara was shaking as said “I am safe now. He is dead...Charlie is dead but I survived.”