As long as you love me

A Tragic Family Struggle

When John's eyes locked onto me, an ominous energy filled the room. Without warning, he seized a fistful of my hair, yanking so violently that the pain surged through me like a searing wave. The stinging slap that followed left my face throbbing, disoriented and nauseous. It took a moment to register that he had flung me across the room, my back colliding with the walls in a sickening thud. The agony was so intense that I teetered on the edge of consciousness.

"It irritates me to see your face, Lina. Even saying your name makes me sick! It reminds me how you and those children are a curse to me. Ever since you entered my life, all I've known is misfortune!" His words dripped with venom.

Bracing myself for the storm of his drunken monologue, I tried to numb my emotions, to shield myself from the barrage of hurtful words. My only solace was the hope that my children could somehow learn to do the same.

Paralyzed by fear, I dared not make a sound or check on my children, afraid any movement might trigger his rage against them. Leaning against the wall for support, my mind drifted to a time when our family was a haven, a sanctuary from the storms of life. Never in my wildest nightmares did I envision the man I once loved becoming a vessel for a dormant monster, awakened by the ruins of his business.

In the midst of the chaos, John stumbled backward, tripping over his own inebriated feet, his tirade gaining momentum. "You think you're innocent, Lina? You and those damn kids? You're the reason everything crumbled!" His words were a cacophony of slurred rage, each accusation a dagger.

"I worked tirelessly for this family, and what did I get? A failed business, debts piling up, and a life in ruins!" The bottle in his hand trembled as he took a swig, the bitter liquid adding potency to his accusations. "You're the reason I lost it all. Maybe if you and those kids never existed, I'd still be on top. But no, I'm stuck here with a pitiful excuse for a family."

His laughter resonated through the room, a malevolent symphony accompanying the pain etched on my face. Clenching my fists, I felt the gravity of his words, realizing that I needed to find an escape from this harrowing cycle before it swallowed us whole. The room transformed into a theatrical battleground, a haunting reminder of a love that had metamorphosed into a heart-wrenching nightmare.

_

Our family used to be a picture of happiness. We were complete, content, and deeply in love. John adored our two daughters, Anna (5) and Lea (3). He was the epitome of a family man, taking us out for dinners, treating us to theater nights, and ensuring that all our needs were met. Those were the days when joy was abundant, and the laughter of our children echoed through the walls of our home.

Then came the storm that shattered our idyllic life. A malicious scam hit us, crippling our business and leaving John emotionally battered. The man who once provided security and happiness gradually transformed into a stranger consumed by anger and despair. I understood his initial frustration; losing the business he had toiled so hard to build was a devastating blow.

We relocated to a small town, hoping for a fresh start by launching a small business. However, the new venture failed, plunging John into a downward spiral of alcoholism and violence. He couldn't cope with the failure, and instead of facing it, he turned his pain into a torrent of blame directed at us.

As the night descended into chaos, John's drunken snores signaled a brief respite. I seized the moment and tiptoed to the closet where I had hidden my sleeping daughters. Their peaceful slumber couldn't conceal the dried tears on their innocent faces. My heart ached for them, and for myself.

As Anna rubbed her sleepy eyes, she whispered, "Mom?"

"Yes, sweetie?" I replied, trying to mask the pain in my voice.

"Why is Dad so angry all the time?" she asked, her innocence clashing with the harsh reality that surrounded us.

I crouched down to be at eye level with her. "Your dad is going through a tough time, sweetheart. Sometimes, when people are hurting, they don't know how to handle it, and it comes out as anger."

Lea stirred in my arms, her tiny voice joining the conversation, "Mommy, I want to go back to our old home. It was happy there."

A lump formed in my throat. "I know, baby. I wish we could too."

Anna's gaze hardened with a mixture of sadness and frustration. "But why does he blame us, Mom? It's not our fault."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I hugged them tighter. "No, sweetheart, it's not. But sometimes, people look for someone to blame when things go wrong. It's not fair, and it hurts, but we have to be strong for each other."

As I settled them back into bed, Anna whispered, "Mom, I'm scared he'll hurt you."

I kissed her forehead, my heart breaking. "I won't let that happen, darling. I promise. Now get some rest. Tomorrow will be a better day."

Leaving their room, I approached my husband's slumbering form. The room reeked of alcohol, a stark reminder of the demons that haunted him. I couldn't help but wonder how we had become the casualties of his unraveling.

"Tomorrow is another day. Just bear with it a little longer, Lina," I murmured to myself. The weight of the uncertainty pressed down on me, a heavy burden that seemed insurmountable.

I cast a final glance at my daughters, their innocent faces contorted with worry even in their sleep. The pitiful reality of our existence seemed to hang in the air, a silent plea for a reprieve that remained elusive.