A Wife's Whisper

I want to scream!

This is not the world I pictured myself to live in. This world is created by the lies and promises crafted by men. I am alone. I am tired.

Jolted awake from the whine of my daughter, I stood up—back aching, arms stinging, and face swelling.

“Mama! Wake up! I’m hungry. Can you please cook me food?”

I went straight to the kitchen and did the same thing I have been doing since the day I said “I do.” For today, I prepared eggs and hotdog, my daughter, Analisa’s favorite and let her eat it.

“Here anak. Finish your meal and I’ll just fix your things for school, okay?” I said.

“Yes mama,” she answered.

5 notebooks, 2 pencils, 1 eraser, and a book?I thought as I fix it.

These days my thoughts are hazy—uncertain. But what I am certain of is the love I feel for my daughter. My sweet Analisa, whose angelic voice eases whatever pain I have, filling up the emptiness my husband can’t and will never give.

“Ma! I’m finish!” my daughter shouted across the room.

I turned to her and placed a smile that did not, in any way, match what I was feeling inside.

I placed the dishes on the sink and started to carry her.

“Come, anak. Let’s take a bath.”

“Ma,” she whispered. “What are those?” I stopped. She pointed on the maps of blues covering me. The bruises.

I gulped. Oh, Analisa. My sweet innocent daughter. Searching for the right answer, I said to her: “It’s nothing, anak.” This is the lie I have been telling her every time that question pops out. The lie I have been convincing myself with.

I opened the faucet and started bathing her. I can see her skin, clear and smooth, the opposite of what mine have become. And I thought that this is the only thing that I am holding onto despite of everything, to keep her unmarked from the traumatic experiences of what the world can give.

And alas, it was time for her to go to school. If only she knew what I feel whenever we part. If only she knew what I go through each day.

“Anak, be good in school. Always. Okay?” I said softly.

“Yes, mama! Bye bye!” she replied and grinned as she kissed and waved at megood bye.

Here begins the part of my life which I wish I would never go through. My supposedly haven that is my home, became my prison. I am a prisoner to my own home. This part is the part where I drown in last night’s nightmares.

I went to the kitchen and started washing the dishes.

I remember Domeng and was paralyzed. I remember what he did.

LAST NIGHT

“Go to sleep, Analisa. Good night,” I whispered and tenderly kissed her forehead.

As I was turning off the lights I was startled by the loud rapping on the door followed by the thunderous roars of my husband, Domeng.

“SINANG! Open the door! What’s taking you so long, woman?!”

I hurriedly went down the stairs.

“BANG! BANG! BANG!”

The continuous rhythm of the sound, matched my heart—frantic, fast.

I unlocked the door and saw what was before me: a raging mess. Domeng grabbed my arm in a ___ grip while he screams: “I AM TIRED OF YOUR ANTICS! WHO ARE YOU TO TREAT ME LIKE THIS?! WORTHLESS! I AM THE ONE WHO GIVES YOU AND YOUR BRAT OF A DAUGHTER MONEY!”

“Domeng, please, don’t include Analisa, she’s out of this—“ I defended.

“SHUT UP!”

And there begins the beatings. Endless beatings that would make me think and wish that I was better than this—better than this shell of a woman who is too weak to fight. But I am hopeless.  All throughout the night, my silence thunders. This is the world I live in.
I was brought back to reality by the water from the sink, running through my numb hands, which I have not noticed, is now overflowing. I stared and stared at it, seeing the dull reflection of myself within the ripples of the water. And in those stupid moments that I let myself be still in this chaotic world, comes my husband.

I cannot breathe.

I saw his reflection behind mine. I saw how his eyes turned into one that can bring you to tears and let you cower and let you bend. But I also saw how mine turned to something I hoped to become. I realized that I may bend but I will never break. I do not deserve this.

“You’re worthless and now you’re stupid too?!” he screamed as he grabbed my chin forcefully with those hands of his that has touched me countless times only to hurt and not to caress. Never to caress.

And for the first time, I lashed back. I fought with everything that I had. I fought with everything I am.

Trying to break free from his hold, I thrashed and thrashed. Screaming. Fighting. Finally.

“LET GO OF ME! I HAD ENOUGH!” I cried.

“Oh so now you know how to fight back huh?” he sneered. “Well, let’s see about that!”

With the air crackling with tension, I was not ready for what he did then. He was filled with this cold rage I have not seen in him. Grabbing my hair, he plunged my head into the sink, overflowing with water. I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die. He’s gonna kill me. I can’t breathe.

I remembered the year I have spent my life with him, remembered that I am only a shadow of who I was once before. He stole a part of my life. But ironically, he also gave me life. Analisa. I remembered her. Live for her. Live for Analisa. And from there, I snapped.

I gasped for air and pushed him with what little strength that I have.He stumbled from the mess that was made from him drowning me.

My eyes darted around. And there, just within an arm’s reach was a knife.

I grabbed it.

“STOP THIS! Stop this Domeng! Or else…” I hesitated.

“Or else what? You can’t even live without me!” he said with his evil smirk of his.

Stuck with the rage and desolation of what I am feeling, it passed my mind to end this all at once.  Kill him. Kill him and end this. Killing him would give you your freedom you wished for 18 years. Kill him. I am lost. But with that came the resignation. The decision.

I advanced towards him.

I took a breath.

And then another.

I raised the knife, aiming
at his heart

End it.

“Mama?”

I stared at the shadow close the door. And there came Analisa.

“Mama?” she repeated with those frightened eyes. It was as if she did not know me and did not want to get any closer.Please. This is not who I am. I thought.

And like a dam came the rushing water of exhaustion and shame. I dropped the knife as my knees wobbled. This should not be. This should have not happened.

I sank to my knees and called my daughter desperately: “Analisa, come to mama.”

Without any hesitation, I approached and brought her to my arms as if I never saw her for years. Longingness. I wanted to hug her. I wanted to kiss her.

She was still hesitant and already began crying. No. I’m scaring her. Analisa, it’s still me, mama.

I tried to calm her down. And finally, she succumbed.

I reached for her hand and without looking back, without saying any word, we went out of the door. Out of the prison I once called “home.” I. Will. Never. Go. Back.

I am totally lost. I do not know where to go. But one thing’s for sure—we can live without Domeng.

“Mama, I’m tired,” she sleepily says.
We found a bench along the way and sat down. My little princess hugged me and said: “I love you, mama.” And for the first time in a long while, I smiled genuinely. And that for me, is the best thing I’ve heard for years.

As the sun kissed the earth, my heart fissured for I remembered how crestfallen my husband was when we left him.

For almost an eternity of living with him, I know him from the extremity of his hair down to his feet.

Maybe he was used from all the beatings.

Maybe his childhood was full of unwanted memories.

Maybe it’s his twisted way of showing his love.

Maybe…

Maybe…

Maybe…

But for now, all I care about is that: I. Am. F r e e.

THE END

BIL's note: Any thoughts? Hahahaha. Actually, this piece was written when we are still in junior high (senior high pa lang ako hahahaha). I wrote this together with my 2 classmates so basically I just posted this for remembrance hahahaha. I hope you enjoyed it as much as we enjoyed writing it. ❤