(image source: photobucket.com)
“Hurry up, let’s get inside! By now Jason knows that I didn’t go to work. Where’s Dad?”
“He isn’t awake yet. He had a hard time sleeping last night and was up and down at least a half-dozen times I think.”
Susan couldn’t seem to quit shaking, or crying, nor could she say “I’m so sorry!” enough times.
“What are you going to do now?” her mother asked.
“I was going to go to the Battered Women’s Shelter, I think. That’s probably the safest place for me right now. Besides that, they will probably help me get counseling so that I can strengthen my resolve to never go back there.” she answered. “I don’t know what the procedure is to get placed in there though. I thought I would come here and we could look up the number and call.”
At that point Susan’s mother arose from the kitchen table where they were sitting and grabbed the phone book. As she did Susan thought, “Lord, help me! I can’t do this without You!!” Her mother turned around and handed her the book.
“Do you have any clothes to change into?” she asked.
“No. I couldn’t take anything with me or he would have been suspicious. All I have is the uniform on my back.”
“Well, at least the people at work won’t know that you are wearing the same clothes every day!” her mother exclaimed trying to lighten the tension. “I’ll go get you something else to wear. Will you need shoes too?”
“Yes, please. Some tennis shoes would be fine, mom. Thanks.”
With that, Susan started looking for the phone number to the shelter. Once she located it, Susan picked up the phone with a trembling hand and dialed it. The lady who answered was very pleasant-sounding and explained to her that she would need to make a police report and then have the officer bring her to the shelter. That was the only way that she could get in.
After Susan hung up the phone, her mother walked back into the room and asked, “What did they say?”
As she proceeded to explain their procedures to her mother as Susan’s trembling went into high gear. She was shaking so badly that she could barely take a sip of the coffee that her mother had fixed for her when she had first arrived.
“Are you alright?”, she asked.
“This is going to make him a whole lot angrier than just me leaving when I report him to the police. What if he goes off the deep end and really kills me for it? What will happen to the kids?”, Susan asked her mother as she burst out crying once more.
“Don’t worry about that right now. You have to do it, Susan. If anything happens to you and they don’t catch him for it, I promise that we’ll hire an attorney and fight for custody of your children. Have some faith in God! You have to believe that He will protect you. But right now you have to call the police.”
“Okay,” Susan replied, “hand me the phone again.” With that she dialed 911 and waited for the dispatcher to answer as her knee rapidly bounced up and down…
Teresa Marie 1/21/12 ©