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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Family · #1978921
A story of where domestic cruelty can lead. (based on real life events)
DOMESTIC DISTBURBANCE

         My father was well respected, and liked by the townspeople. He wore his uniform with pride, and as Captain of Police, he could do no wrong. However, he had them all fooled, and I needed to put him down, indefinitely. I just had no clue how to do it. It saddens my aching heart. If only--, If only he would have stopped. It's hard for me to talk about. To this day, I still have sleepless nights. He was an abuser, of everything. Of me, of mom and -- of the alcohol. His voice had a mean, and angry tone to it. So much so, even if he hadn't beaten my mother and I, tears would still trickle down my face, from the constant hatred, he had for us. I decided during the last beating, that he would never do this to us again.
"Please dad, stop!", I'd beg, with my forearms blocking his target.

"Stop what?" he'd ask, like he didn't know. His belt had left welts on my back, and his gorilla hands, forced my nose to bleed on many occasions. "Roger, leave him alone.", mom would cry out. Smack.

"No, I won't Sheila. This little bastard has it coming, and you're next."

"Why are doing this to us?", she yelled. Her three day old mascara had left run marks.

          He knelt down to one knee, squeezing mom by the neck. " This is my house woman. My rules-- my jurisdiction. I am the boss, and I am tired of you two doing whatever you want when I'm gone." Right before he headbutted her, her complexion was of an egg-white, and her eyes were bloodshot, from her own acid-like tears. I immediately jumped on his back, after he knocked her out.


          Unfortunately, he knew how to handle people. He had broken up many bar brawls, with people double my size, attempting the same thing. My back crashed against the stucco of the fireplace, as he powered himself backwards, and the force from it, took my breath away, and I came down crashing. Mother and I, were both down on the floor. That's when he sat at the kitchen table, were his bottle of Jack Daniel's, awaited his return. In my mind, I begged God for air. I also begged for him to save us. I know God heard me, for the beating was now over, and at a snail's pace, I caught my breath, as I clasped both hands to my chest. All we could do now, was wait for the alcohol to drown him. He took a big swig straight from the pint, then unbuttoned his shirt pocket. He pulled a smoke from his pack, lit it, and stared us down. "Let that be a lesson to you two. Will you never learn?" He laughed ominously. "Get up woman. Do you're job as a wife, and prepare me my dinner."

         Things weren't always this way, as mom once told me, when he was on the job. "You're father used to be a gentleman, when I first met him. Flower's every Friday, followed by a candlelight dinner, and then he'd bring me to the park in his cruiser, for a romantic walk under the lit moon. He was only a Sergeant then." I tilted my head in confusion.
"When did thing's change mom?

          "Once he got promoted to Lieutenant", she said. "He gained his own team, and after work they would all go down to the tavern, for a few beers. The beers turned into shots, and the romance turned into him passing out on my lap, where I lounged on the couch." I was nine, when they gave dad the Captain's chair. His pay went way up, but his responsibilities grew deeper, and the stress turned his hair from brown to white. Nothing has ever been the same, since then.

          The first beating I received, was from getting a low grade in math. If my memory serves me correctly, I was a fifth grader. Yes, that's right-- Mr. Trudeau was my teacher, and the day following the belt straps to the back, I fell out of my desk, reaching for a pencil I dropped. Coincidentally, the school nurse was speaking with Mr. Trudeau at his desk when it happened. They both laughed at first, as did the rest of the class, until they witnessed me struggle a hand to my back. The nurse lifted my shirt, and saw the welts.
"Oh my God, Brian. What happened?" I lied, saying the first thing that came to mind.
"I fell out of a tree two days ago."
"Well, did you're parents bring you to the hospital?" There was no way, I was ratting my father out. Besides, it was only the first time it happened.

"No. I didn't tell them."

"Why not, Brian? That looks awful."

"I know, but it looks worse than it is, I swear. A bit sore, but I'm really fine. Please don't

tell my parents."

"Okay Brian, but with one condition."

"What's that?"

         "Come down to the office with me, so I can at least put some cream on it."
I agreed. The one thing I was not aware of though, was he had been slapping my mom around, for a little over a year, at the time. Three years now, I've been enduring this, and at least four for mom. It had to stop, somehow. There weren't any help lines, like they have today and I never dared to tell anyone. No one would ever think my dad could do this, for what other's saw in him, and what my mother and I saw, were two different people. He had his position on his side, and soon he would be running for Chief. Whatever I was gonna do, had to look believable. Although I was fifteen, and bigger than my mom, I was in no way stronger than my father. Facing him was of no option.


          It was a Friday night, and my mother was asleep already. I knew from crime shows I watched, police officer's always had enemies. My father had put a lot of people away, over the years. This was the night, I'd finally put him away. We had a shed in the backyard. Inside it contained a lawn mower, rakes, shovels, bags of lawn and garden seed, and a garden hose, hanging on a nail. It was nighttime, and I couldn't see that well. No idea, why I never grabbed a flashlight. I was feeling my way around in the dark, and my foot knocked something over, and it fell by my side. I reached down, and I held it in my hands. This should do the trick, I thought to myself. Suddenly, I heard something behind me. I turned and looked. There was a shady figure at the doorway of the shed. I knew the time was now, and I was not going to change my mind.

News Reporter: Gretchen Palmatiere (channel 7 news)

41 year old, Sheila Sandow, of 257 Meadow Lane, was found brutally beaten tonight. Her husband Roger Sandow, Lincoln County's Captain of Police, found her body laying helpless, outside of their shed, after returning home from work, at around 9:30 PM. There is a full investigation being conducted, as I report this tragic incident to you now. The whereabouts of their fifteen year old son, Brian Sandow, is unknown. Also, there was a wooden Louisville Slugger found at the scene, covered in the victim's blood. If anyone has any information, please contact the Lincoln County Police station. Back to you Charles.......
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