I don’t know when it began.
I remember hiding in trees whilst my father smacked my mother across the face with the back of his hand.
I remember running to my favourite tree after my father had dragged me into his bedroom, toward the big brown wardrobe that stood waiting for me, it’s door opening with a groan as he reached inside to take the leather belt. He folded that belt with ease. That belt folded like it had been in that position before. And it had.
I remember the way his face would redden when he got angry.
He never swore at me.
At worst he would say “you’re making me flaming cranky”.
It was then that I knew to step into line quickly.
Bend over.
Close my eyes.
Grit my teeth.
Cry just enough for him to know it broke my heart and tore at my skin.
Make him wonder if I hated him.
I don’t remember how many times I heard my mother cry. She was the ultimate actress, never showing me her pain. Thinking about it, I don’t remember seeing her cry once in my childhood.
There is much I don’t remember from my childhood.
My mind has been kind to me. It has hidden from itself and covered my memories in darkness.
There is a door in my mind.
Locked.
Waiting to be opened.
I have lost the key.
I don’t bother to search for it.
I walk through different doorways now.
© ryan
deliriousgirl, 4 months ago
JFC!!!
Russell Holder, 4 months ago
I wrote this years ago…
From broken homes
emerge broken hearts…
longing for more than broken dreams.
I think I can relate!
Hopefully others can as well!
Written with feelings undesired for awhile…
ones that were put to rest!
Nicole Ryan in reply to Russell Holder’s comment, 4 months ago
beautiful Russell ..
such is the muse of a creative soul .. tragedy and pain .. makes us all stronger .. wisdom allows us to release it .. makes us lighter xx
Stack, 4 months ago
This brings back memories of my own, it’s sad but beautifully written.
vanesse, 4 months ago
The story has a grand ending!!! :o)
great job!!!
flower68, 4 months ago
My stepfather(only father I ever knew)was a wife beater.The day she finally left,that morning he threw turps all over her and tried to set her on fire.The lighter wouldn’t work.MF.
I’m all good.He’s nobody I need wasting space in my thoughts.
flower68, 4 months ago
Sorry,caught up in my own experience.Great writing.
Jessica Tremp, 4 months ago
i love that last line…
Nicole Ryan in reply to Jessica Tremp’s comment, 4 months ago
thanx Jessica :)
Sarah Donoghue, 4 months ago
very emotive. bought tears to my eyes- remembering events in my childhood as well. but the last lines are great and remind me that I can move through new doors and not have to worry about the past any more.
JaneAParis, 4 months ago
This read was very powerful for me. It was the ending, that really hit a chord in me. It acknowledged something I’ve known for a long time, however it reaffirmed it in my mind. We need to move in postive directions, and sometimes we need to let go of the past, in order to do this, and open ourselves up to new relationships and opportunities. Great writing. A few words said so much.
‘There is a door in my mind.
Locked.
Waiting to be opened.
I have lost the key.
I don’t bother to search for it.
I walk through different doorways now.’
Empowering and freeing. Smiles from Jane.
Nicole Ryan in reply to JaneAParis’s comment, 4 months ago
Thanx so much Jane :)
KEITH R. WILL..., 4 months ago
we have similar childhood memories, and me, and my son’s argument was i hit u only once, and he said no daddy twice, and then i remembered when he was little in a store for the first time, and i smacked his hand telling him if u can’t buy don’t touch. my son was right twice in thirteen years, and not really hard either
KEITH R. WILL..., 4 months ago
smile xxx
Norman Tedder, 4 months ago
Thanks for that, shows me what I was spared from by the grace of God and how grateful I am to have only beautiful childhood memories.
Digby, 4 months ago
I don’t spank my kids, but I’m not really apposed to it. My mother would chase us off to bed in the evenings with the jug cord-that bakerlite plastic end hurt like hell. It doesn’t bother me. She always said it was hurting her more than me and I tend to believe that. She wasn’t a sadistic woman.
In fact, she was very loving and compassionate.
I’m not trying to relate my experience to yours. Your story sounds a whole lot more sinister. Things, however, have changed a lot in social mores between my generation and that of my parents. I think spanking kids is certainly one of them-largely for the better, too.
Nicole Ryan in reply to Digby’s comment, 4 months ago
Digby, i know where you’re coming from :)
Society has changed a lot in this regard.
Spanking/smacking was considered acceptable when i was younger in the 70’s.
So was wife beating.
Nobody talked about it. Things were kept hidden.
Women were expected to do as they were told, not have a strong opinion and do as their husbands expected for a great deal of relationships. There were of course a high number of exceptions to this.
Generations later have broken this cycle .. and continue to do so.
Awareness about abuse (in all of it’s forms) is education.
Knowledge is power.
girlinthestars, 3 months ago
what a powerful story. i love the way it just flows, you just want to read the next line and get to it fast! great write, very sad~*
ladyb, 3 months ago
I related to this too. It takes guts to tell your story, well done. You have inspired me, and hopefully others. And you did so beautifully. x
aglaia b, 3 months ago
wow this is both disturbing and hopeful love the ending…..you have a wonderful gift my darlin xxx
Lys ., 3 months ago
and you think im beautiful?
pshaw!
youre ravishing and a delicious delightful shock of tanginess.
exceptionally flowing and ebbing
i didnt have to read it three times with tears in my eyes to tell me it was golden and inspiring. fantastic.