Her Next Door
This piece is part of a trilogy about domestic violence which is so prevalent and becoming more so. The first one is called "Them Next Door " and this one - "Her Next Door" - is written from the wife's perspective. The third one is from the child's perspective. I will publish it here at some stage
Is that him coming up the path now?Is he drunk? Is he still angry?Listen to his steps…….That will tell me his mood.When he drags his feet, he’s angry.When he shuffles unevenly, he’s drunk.Is that a drag I can hear? ……Or a shuffle……? Will he want something cookedWhen he comes in?Will he wake the babyWith his noise?She’s got another cold,I’ve just got her to sleep.What’s the time?Midnight. If I lie very still, he’ll think I’m asleep.Slow down my breathing, lie stillAnd hope he leaves me alone.Here he comes down the hallThe sound of his arm rubbing along the wallTells me he’s well gone….Can’t walk straightNeeds the wall to hold him up. Thank god for small mercies!At least he’ll fall into bedAnd won’t touch me.Too drunk, too out of it.When he’s asleep, I’ll sneak off Into the spare bedHe won’t even remember this tomorrow. But I will. As I remember every night like thisEvery day like thisWaiting for the kids to grow upSo one day I won’t be hereWhen he walks in the door,Calling my name,Angry, always angryAnd I won’t be home waiting!I’ll be gone!With one suitcase, the kid’s photos,My mother’s gold rings,And the bundle of cash from the pokiesHe thinks I don’t know he’s hidden!Take that you #%*&! I’ll be free!Not yours to hit anymore!Not yours to rape anymore! Not yours,NOT yours! I’ll find a little place of my ownFar from here,Change my name, get a job,Reclaim some dignity, let timeHeal the weeping gashes in my soul.Finally! I’ll have some “ME” space,Some “ME” time, some “ME” money,Some “ME” me!©Sadiechild