Cheryl
  
By Heathen
  
(violent,
  no sex)
   
   
  Since it was mentioned that October is Domestic violence
  Awareness month, and since this subject is important to me, I wrote this short
  tome.  It holds some basic facts
  from true cases that I know about (I got to see the aftereffects), but
  combined to become a story that could (and probably does) happen.  It does contain graphic violence and may not be for the faint
  of heart.
   
  
  
  Cheryl  (viol,
  nosex)
   
  
  
  Cheryl sat in her bedroom trying to make sense of it all. 
  She hugged her pillow close to her 13 year old body substituting the
  inaminate object for the warmth of  someone
  real.  She needed the love desperately but it was not forthcoming. 
  In the dark of her bedroom, she was crouched in the corner of her
  closet.  She could not get away
  and this was the one place she could hide.
   
  Through the wall that separated her room from the living
  room she could hear the sound of a body being thrown around. 
  She heard a lamp go crashing to the floor and then the body following. 
  That body was her mother.  She
  could imagine the brutality that was going on in the other room. 
  And she knew what would happen if she tried to stop it. 
  She knew firsthand the pain inflicted by her father’s wrath. 
  She had screamed at him to stop hurting mommy. 
  He had backhanded her with enough force to send her into the stove,
  knocking her cold.  She woke up to
  find her mother holding her.  As
  bad as she felt, her mother looked worse. 
  Her eyes were both swollen and her lips were twice the size they
  usually were.
  
   
  Cheryl looked at her mother and asked “Why can’t we
  just go away from here?”
  
   
  He mother answered “I have taken you and left. 
  He always finds us.  The
  last time was when we went to Uncle Gary’s. 
  He made some threats to kill us both if we didn’t come back, and I
  believe he would have done it.  From
  now on you need to stay in your room when he gets this way. 
  I have to keep him from using you too.”
  
   
  “But Mommy, why does he do this to you?”
  
   
  “I guess it is my fault most of the time. 
  Your father was raised in a strict household. 
  Your Grandpa was the head of the house and he allowed nobody to have
  any control but him.  Now your
  daddy expects the same thing in his home. 
  I know this, but I sometimes don’t have dinner ready when he comes
  home.  And I will sometimes say
  things that sets him off.”
  
   
  Cheryl did not think these things were bad enough to get
  what her mom got.  None of her
  friends’ parents seemed to be like this. 
  She never had any friends over because she never knew when her Daddy
  would be in a bad mood.   She
  wished for the life she saw on the sitcoms on the television. 
  The parents on there loved their kids. 
  They never hit their kids or each other.  And they were happy.
  
   
  The time before tonight had been the worst for Cheryl. 
  She had let something slip at school and a counseler had started
  checking into her home.  When her
  Daddy found out he was furious and had taken off his belt and beat her until
  she had bruises all over her butt and legs. 
  The pain was awful and it seemed that he would never stop.
  
   
  Tonight was different though.  Her daddy had come home and found that her Mom had a couple
  of suitcases packed.  She had told
  Cheryl to pack one of her own.  It
  was hidden under her bed.  He went
  into a rage.  After the first
  punch, she had ran into her room.  She
  heard her daddy go into the bedroom and throw things out of the closet. 
  Then he stomped downstairs and demanded to know where the gun he had
  hidden was.  Her mom told him that
  she didn’t know about any gun.  That
  was when he really started in on her.
  
   
  Her mother didn’t know where the gun was. 
  But Cheryl did.  She crept out of the closet and pulled the piece of cold gray
  metal out from under her mattress.  She
  heard silence from downstairs now.  Then
  the footsteps that came closer to her door. 
  She heard the knob rattle then the door shatter as her daddy kicked it
  in.  She closed her eyes…..
  
   
  ====================================================
  
   
  The police arrived a very short time later to a scene
  that sickened them.  The body of a
  woman was on the living room floor.  Her
  broken face and body looked barely human. 
  Upstairs they found a little girl sitting in her closet holding a 9 mm
  pistol.  There were tears
  streaming down her face.  In front
  of her was a male body.  And the
  little girl was saying over and over, “Daddy please don’t hurt us anymore.  Please, no more” 
  
  
~~~FIN~~~
  
  
Copyright
  2003 Heathen
  
   
  
    
  
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