Blades

I remember having this page in my notebook where I scribbled ‘NOT REAL’ over and over again. He kept insisting I’d done things I hadn’t, trying to make me believe I was a bad person. I scribbled so hard, my pen went through the page.

It was like all the shouting inside me found its way out onto that paper.

He always threaten to tell immigration about me and send me back, even though I here legally. Just the idea of being reported would mess up my job and seeing my kids. He know this, but he don’t care. He just want to hurt me, to make me feel scared and powerless.

It feel like he got all the power, and I can’t do nothing.

I called it my escape fund, tucked away at the back of my wardrobe, hidden behind my clothes. He never bothered to look there.

Any spare change I had went straight into my secret stash.

One day, I’d save up enough to break free, to find my own place away from him.

She would leave money on the table. It made me feel cheap that she would never give it to me. Said it was for the shopping. I had to make it stretch, get everything on her list, no excuses.

Sometimes, though, it wasn’t enough, and I’d have to beg or steal to get everything. Couldn’t go back without it all, it made her mad.

I tried to use it once to make a break for it, but she tracked me down. There was no escape.

I painted the bathroom mirror with black paint. I just couldn’t face looking at myself anymore. He kept saying I was ugly every day. Not just once. Every time he looked at me he said it. I heard it so much I believed it. I couldn’t go out. I couldn’t even look at myself.

I always bought a card for my daughter, even though I couldn’t send it. Not knowing where she was, I kept it hidden away. He wouldn’t let me stay in touch with her after my ex took her.

But one day, I’ll find out where she is. Then, I’ll give her all those cards, just to show her I never stopped thinking about her.