Before he wakes

S e v e n

"Myron please-"

His silhouette rose up and with a quick swipe he hit Hazel on the side of her ribs, making her shriek out in pain. I screamed at him and with desperation grabbed the nearest object and aimlessly made a swing for him, hitting him sharp across the face with an almighty blow. He fell to his side, roaring in pain. Hazel lay clutching her side, wailing, her face flushed crimson. I quickly crawled to her and lifted her into my arms before making an escape for the door, leaving Myron sprawled out on the floor face down, his legs twisted out in odd angles. 

Unfortunately, this wasn't the first, nor was it the last, beating that my daughter had endured. As she got older, she became more wiser to her Father's expectations. But she was still a young girl, terrified in her own home. Hazel often wet the bed and had terrible nightmares. I would lie away most nights, waiting for a single sound, waiting for her to suddenly scream out in her sleep. I would dash out of bed, leaving Myron stirring beside me. I would find Hazel sat bolt up right in her bed, breathing heavily, her body trembling. I would sit beside of her on her bed and hold her until she resettled. Once back to sleep, I would kiss her goodnight and then head back to my own bedroom. Sometimes Myron would be awake and as I would climb back into bed beside of him he would groan, "That kid needs help, this isn't normal."

It wasn't just her home life that was being effected.

One morning when Myron had gone to work and Hazel to school, the telephone rang. I immediately put down my cleaning instruments and rushed to it. Myron telephoned every so often during the day to 'keep a eye' on me. I was always on alert for the ring, aware that I mustn't miss his call like that one time when I had been on the toilet and had unintentionally missed it. My heart had dropped when I had seen the red bleep on the telephones answer machine. I clicked the button and waited for the automatic voice to finish, alerting me that I had one new message. I waited, biting my thumbnail anxiously.

The beep had only just sounded when Myron began screaming through the speaker.

"Where the fuck are you? Is there someone there, cause I've got people watching out for me you know, so you better not have. I bet you're just ignoring me, typical ungrateful cow can't even be arsed to answer the phone to your husband while he's kindly taken time out from his work to check in on his wife. Pathetic."

By the time the message had finished I had already scrambled through the telephone book and picked out my husbands office number and waited to dial, my heart pounding. I punched in the number. The palms of my hands had felt horribly sweaty and I had wiped them on my trousers. Myron had answered on the third ring with Sarcasm in his voice, "Oh so you've finally taken the time out of your busy life to telephone your husband?"

I had apologised over and over again and reassured him that I was indeed alone and was just using the bathroom. When Myron came home that night, he had slapped me for being so useless.

Flustered, I quickly answered the phone and prepared myself for a grilling. I was met with an unfamiliar female voice.

"H-hello?" I stammered.

"Hello is this Mrs Hastings?" The voice spoke.

"Yes, who's calling please? My husband is not at home if you would prefer to call back later-" My throat felt scratchy and dry, my voice like it belonged to a young girl.

"No that's quite alright Mrs Hastings. This is Mrs Monroe, head of Oakland Primary school. I was wondering if it would be possible for you to come to the school as soon as possible?"

"What is this regarding please, as I said my husband is at work-" My voice trailed of. I was aware that Myron could telephone at any moment and he would not be thrilled if he found out that I was on the line to someone without his permission. I bit my lip as I stood with the phone pressed to ear, wondering what on earth I was to do.