To Break-free

Chapter Five

Copyright ©ShazneemTamana

 

Chapter Five

Gently wrapping the towel around my throbbing body, I slowly climbed out of the bath. A whimper escaped my mouth as pain erupted through me. Tears ran down my cheeks.

Would I ever run out of tears? I wondered to myself.

“Mama,” Oliver said through the bedroom door.

I ran to my bedroom as quickly as my body allowed me and said, “Yes, I’m coming.”

“Nana will be here soon,” said Lily. I looked at the time. She was right. Mom would be here in a short while.

“Go and wait in the living room, Okay?”

They agreed and left.

I slipped on my undergarments, then looked at the small wardrobe. I remember how I had pleaded for him to buy me one. I touched the door and wished it was the beautiful mahogany wardrobe I had once seen in the shops. I remember his laughter at my longing excitement of seeing it, the baffled and apologetic look the salesman gave me.

My body shook as my thoughts brought forth the memory of the three slaps on the face I received in the car for looking at the salesman in the face. I shook my head scolding myself. Were the latest memories he had engraved upon me not enough that I had to think of the slaps I had taken only a few weeks into my marriage?

I opened the wardrobe door. It was full of shirts and jeans. More specifically, men’s shirts and jeans. I grabbed one of each, shuddering at the thought of the fabrics scraping against my raw, aching skin.

Taking a deep breath, I began to dress. I bit my lower lip to suppress any sound as the denim rubbed hard at my thighs. It followed onto my core, causing me to yelp in pain as my damaged, red core pulsed hard with pain.

I looked down at my marked torso, shuddering as visions abused my mind again. They reaffirmed what had occurred. The shirt covered the marks on the my body. I was dreading Adam seeing me like this; all bruised and ugly.

Walking back into the bathroom, I wiped my face with a towel and lightly creamed it. My face was plain, just like it had been since our honeymoon over ten years ago. He had thrown away all my makeup.

I remember when I had bought so much with my two friends back then. They had been my bridesmaids. How we had giggled and laughed in sheer delight of me being the first of our trio to get married. My lips raised as I remembered Tessa and Bella but as soon as the smile came, it went.

I looked at the glass shelf at the side. It was bare except for two items: basic face cream and the only makeup I was allowed which was foundation. Looking at the mirror in front of me, I saw bruises on my cheeks. Red and pink stripes were printed there. I was glad they weren’t purple as it would be harder to conceal.

Taking my foundation, I covered my face as lightly as possible with it. I took five minutes to layer the foundation and managed to cover everything without it looking like I was wearing it. Walking to the bedroom, I wondered how my girls were. Oh how I missed them.

 

Shaking myself back from my past, I left my room making my way to the staircase.

Not again! I thought to myself but I had to get down.

Holding the banister for support, I took the first step. Just as I reached the landing, the doorbell rang. I cursed at myself because I hadn’t done a quick check of the living room and bathroom.

I braced myself and opened the door. There stood my mom, looking as beautiful as ever. Her blonde hair was in a fishtail braid with a few curls very deliberately escaping at the sides by her ears. The hair along with the flawless makeup made her look as if she was only a few years older to my twenty-nine. No one would guess she was twenty years my senior.

“Kira, honey how are you?” she said. Before I could say anything, she walked in and headed straight toward the living room.

Could she not hug me? I closed my eyes, hiding the tears that begged to fall.

Had my eyes not shed enough; had my heart not wept enough?

I composed myself. Turning around, I followed her. She was bent down hugging the children and then told them to go wait in the car.

“Bye, Mama” they said, making me smile at the sight of their eyes lighting up in excitement.

I kissed their rosey soft cheeks and waved as I opened the door to watch them proceed to the car. As they got in, I turned to face my mom. Confusion etched onto my face as I stood there being stared down by the woman.

“Kira, I’m disappointed. First of all, look at the state of this house! What the hell do you do all day? And secondly, where the hell does the money go?” she demanded.

I became even more confused. I was sore and tired. I had no energy left in me.

“Don’t look at me like that. Adam earns enough. Look at you and the kids! Do you not feed them? God!”

“M...mom, he drinks,” I said and kicked myself mentally as I tried to talk.

I took a step back as I saw my mom get angry. “Don’t you dare! Adam drinks on occasions. He’s right! You are delusional!” she said.

“I am not, Mom. When did you talk to him? You don’t know him like I do!” I whisper-yelled.

“Enough! I have heard all that I want to. I’m taking the kids. They’ll be spending the night with me. Do some good and keep the man happy for once. It took you long enough to have children. I’m surprised he never left you.”

She walked past me, making my inner child come out. I felt so alone and vulnerable.

She turned around and looked at me up and down. “And for God’s sake, wear proper clothes!”

Her disgust was evident in her face. I sobbed and she looked at me as though I was pathetic. I closed the door, more words from her followed. “As if it would do you any good. What did I do, to give birth to that?”

I locked the door and fell to the floor, crying out for invisible support; someone to help me; someone who’ll love me.

Her words hit my heart, adding to the pain and hurt that coursed through it. My own mother didn’t listen. She couldn’t feel my pain. She couldn’t hug me or ever be on my side. Her disappointment, choked me. Her lack of affection, ripped at my soul. It crushed away any hope for love.

Was I really nothing to them? Nothing at all to the one that gave me life and the one I gave my life to?

 

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Copyright ©Shazneem Tamana