Time Away

Mom never told us what happened to change the plans, but at the time I couldn’t imagine it was any worse than what I’d seen happen before. When she picked us up from our friend’s house, she started to explain. We didn’t have much time. We needed to gather everything we could. She couldn’t tell us how much time we were leaving for, but we weren’t just packing suitcases and we weren’t taking the car. My grandma made the six hour drive to our house so she could take us back with her. 

My stomach was in knots as I shoved all my clothes into whatever bag I could find. What if he came home? There was no way to explain this! No way to pretend we were not leaving for…hopefully forever this time. 

I tried to settle myself, but my hands were shaking. I’d never known a time when there was hope. Every time I got close, it was ripped from me, so I waited for the inevitable and life threatening disappointment. I felt light headed as we placed the final items in the car. My world seemed to spin as I packed myself between a swivel fan and a pile of boxed belonging into the only space left in the car. As I heard the door close, I finally let myself breath. 

“Are you going to be okay like that?” My mom looked concerned. It was true that I had no room to move on our six hour ride back to my grandma’s house, but how could I be anything less than okay? For the first time that I could remember, we might finally be headed to safety. 

“I’m sure.” I hear my voice tremble as I wonder if she is changing her mind. What if this is the disappointment?! She will say it’s too risky and make us go back. 

“Are you really? Because we can–”

“I’m fine!” I try to hide my desperation, but it’s no use. She looks offended, but it doesn’t matter because the car starts moving. My grandma slowly starts our journey to her single wide. 

Her trailer parked on farmland that is slowly disappearing into the expanding metropolitan city would not be ideal for most, but for me it seemed like a dream. I tried to make myself sad as we were leaving. I watched as familiar things disappeared through the window. I thought of our friends–all the people we knew–then stopped. I couldn’t let myself believe it’d be more than a day or two. A week maybe, but at least for now we were far enough he couldn’t chase us. 

After three days, my mom was upset. It was the first time I noticed the pattern. Three days of safety was what it took to make her feel the awful torment that was all too real about my existence; otherwise, she kept herself removed from the feelings while she just survived. For me, it was more than two weeks before I let myself believe we wouldn’t go back. I remember because my mom said she heard me singing. I apologize because I hadn’t realized. “No, sweetie, that’s good. It means you’re happy. I can’t remember the last time I saw you this happy.”

I was happy. I had times when I missed my friends, but I loved our new lives! We lived in tight spaces. My mom spent most of the time we had there just cleaning out a room so that my sister and I had a place to sleep. Even when it was done, we slept on cots. My grandma had no technology, so the small TV and computer were the ones that we packed into the car from our house. Grandma ate weird stuff. We weren’t allowed to get food whenever we wanted like we could before, but I don’t remember being hungry. On Saturdays, I would wake up at 6AM so that I could watch cartoons on the lowest volume in our room without waking my sister. Every Sunday, we would go to my Grandma’s church. It was weird too because the boys and girls weren’t allowed to sit with one another, but when I was shy to answer a question in Sunday school, I was far from the only one. I liked our new lives. We were safe…and then he started calling. 

It was fine at first. He would call, she would yell, and then my sister and I would ask questions. My sister would complain that she missed her friend, but my mom was determined not to go back so I felt safe. I wondered at the time if my sister really wanted to go back or if she just expected too so she didn’t want to be disappointed. I couldn’t imagine wanting to return. 

He kept calling. She yelled less. It turned out to be only a month before we were packed back into a cramped car heading back to the nightmare. I never understood why she kept going back. What could be worth trading your happiness? All I knew as we traveled home is that I was right not to believe it the first time and stupid to think I could ever be truly safe.

Note: This is a true story about events that have not been embellished. While comments are welcome, they are screened to maintain the integrity of the site, prevent foul language, and prevent spam. All comments submitted from real readers will be published even if they are disagreed with.

If you or someone you love is experiencing domestic violence and seeking help, please visit the Domestic Violence National Hotline.

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