New beginings

The force of his hand pushed my head forward. I lost the battle to keep my balance and fell headfirst towards the floor. He of course took full advantage and began to kick my back. I pulled my body into the foetal position and took myself to my good place.  I could not even tell you what had prompted this punishment- that’s what he called the beatings.
  Normally he had the decency to inform me why he was punching, kicking or inflicting some form of pain on my already battered and bruised body. This time however I had no warning. Eventually he stopped and walked away; I pulled myself up into a sitting position and pulled my knees’ towards my stomach. I felt the tears begin to sting my eyes and held my breath until they stopped. I did not want him to see me crying, it could cause another beating.
He came back into the lounge carrying two cups. “Come on kitten up you get, I’ve made you a coffee”.  He put the cups down and took my hand pulling me up in one move. I did not resist. I had learned the hard way that I must never oppose him. I sat on the sofa thanking him for the coffee. Strangely enough even after eleven years of punishments it still unnerved me when he was  charming. We spent the next half hour watching television. Whatever had offended him previously had now passed.
He had not always been the monster he was to become. There was a time when he was sweet and kind, and there was nothing more important than my safety. I met Alex when I was a naïve eighteen year old. He pursued me relentlessly until I agreed to go out with him. I suppose in hindsight that should have been a warning, but I was young and foolishly in love with Alex Burton. I had never admired any other man the way that I had admired him.
The courtship was a fairy tale, whatever I Kate Simms wanted he would do his upmost to achieve. I would laugh and say that his obsessive nature would one day spoil me. If only I had known how true those words would become. No other man would see me as the appealing and vibrant woman I once was, no Alex Burton had without a doubt spoilt me in ways I could ever have imagined.
I remember the first punishment clearly, more so than any of the others. We had been married for eight months. It was April the 14th, I have no idea why the date has stayed so lucid in my memory, but it has.  My day had been busy, cooking and cleaning; I wanted to be a perfect wife just like my father said my mother was.  “Thirty glorious years” he would often say. There was never a cross word between them even after thirty years of marriage he still looked at her with fresh eyes. He said the years made her more beautiful. I wanted my life with Alex to be as wonderful.
Alex so it appears had other ideas’ my life was destined to be one of torture and misery. The punishments would continue on a regular basis for the next eleven years. He could always justify the reasons for the abuse.  I might have done my hair a different way or I had not washed a particular shirt, whatever it was I could never stop him. He would say his judgement was final. 
He finally went to bed; I stayed down to clear the dinner plates away. When I had finished I sat at the kitchen table gently hugging my stomach. The time was approaching for me to make my move. I had to be extremely cautious if he became even slightly suspicious I would never leave this place, well not alive anyway. 
The following day when he had left for work I took the small bag I had hidden at the back of the wardrobe.  The bag contained two changes of clothes, travel size toiletries and the money I had been taking from the shopping allowance. Luckily Alex never checked receipts. Shopping was my only excursion into the outside world. He hated the whole experience, so would sit in the car while I got on with the task. For me though it was nothing more than a pleasure, to be able to spend time away from him and with his permission.
I went to the bathroom and opened the window, he never locked that one. I assumed it was because of the size, getting out would be a squeeze.  I stood on the bath and pulled myself up to the ledge, putting one leg then the other through the window. So far so good it was now just a matter of getting the rest of my body through. I put my hands on the wall either side of the window and levered my body further outside. I had to twist several ways to get out bruising both arms. I landed in a heap on the floor feeling slightly shaken, but I was out.  I looked around; quickly assessing my surroundings, then began the long walk to the train station.
Although the terror inside me had previously been in the pit of my stomach it was now taking the whole of my being over. I finally made it to the station; I had no idea where I was going. I had no family to turn to.  My mother had died four years into my marriage and my grief stricken father followed suit two years later. My mother was an only child as I was and my father had an older brother who had emigrated to New Zealand many years ago.
When I arrived at my destination I made my way to a phone cubicle and looked up homeless shelters, I found one quite close and made my way there.  I only stayed there one night; thankfully, despite all the hatred and loathing I felt towards Alex he had sheltered me from the seedier side of the world. I was sent to a home for battered women.
I am not saying this new life was easy, far from it, but it was now my life. I made friends, people who understood me, something I never believed possible. Talking about Alex hurt far more than the punishments he had delivered. It is said that psychological scars go far deeper than the physical ones, how true that is.

The day finally arrived, this day I felt like I had anticipated for what seemed forever. Claire my key worker took me to the hospital. The rest of the time flew by in a blur of midwives and bright lights. Eventually my new daughter was laid in my arms, there is without a doubt no sweeter smell then that of a new baby.

Later when all the visitors had gone and we were left alone with each other I took her from the cot and stood by the window. I decided to call her Ellen which means ray of light. A perfect choice I thought, she was the ray of light that shone upon our new beginning.