Join Our Newsletter

He’d go days without speaking to me, always with the radio blaring. Whenever I tried to talk to him, he’d just crank up the volume, drowning out my voice. He never said why, just completely ignored me like I didn’t even exist.
UNSEEN ECHOES - Objects of Domestic Abuse | Photography Project & Exhibition

Radio

He’d go days without speaking to me.

Not a single word. Not a glance. Not even the bare minimum acknowledgment that I was there. Just silence. Heavy, crushing silence.

Always with the radio blaring.

The music never stopped. Song after song, filling the space between us like a barrier I could never break through. Some people use silence to think, to cool off, to process. But not him. His silence was punishment. A weapon.

Whenever I tried to talk to him, he’d just crank up the volume, drowning out my voice.

At first, I’d raise mine, trying to talk over the noise. Then I’d move closer, standing right in front of him, hoping he’d have to acknowledge me. But he never did. He’d just stare at the radio, fingers twisting the dial, making sure I couldn’t reach him.

He never said why.

No explanation. No fight to justify it. Just this endless quiet, thick with unspoken anger, with control.

Like I didn’t even exist.

Like I wasn’t worth the effort of words.

And somehow, that hurt more than if he’d just yelled.

share this story:

Facebook
Twitter
LinkedIn
WhatsApp
Email

More stories

UNSEEN ECHOES - Objects of Domestic Abuse | Photography Project & Exhibition

She’d snatch my phone every chance she got, always poking around in it, reading my messages, and checking who I’d called. It felt like I had no space to breathe, no privacy at all.

My phone wasn’t just a device anymore; it was a leash, and she held the other end tight. Freedom? Forget about it.

Read More
UNSEEN ECHOES - Objects of Domestic Abuse | Photography Project & Exhibition

I loved that bench. It became my sanctuary, a place where I could find peace away from the chaos. I couldn’t stay for too long though, he would notice I was gone and come looking for me.

Those precious moments were all I needed. A sense of calm that I could hold onto.

Read More
UNSEEN ECHOES - Objects of Domestic Abuse | Photography Project & Exhibition

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.

Read More
UNSEEN ECHOES - Objects of Domestic Abuse | Photography Project & Exhibition

I used to leave flowers in the window, like my own secret signal to the world. It felt comforting, like a silent message saying I was okay.

But on days when I forgot, I got scared. What if someone noticed the missing flowers and came looking? What would happen if she answered the door? She would find out what I was doing.

I still put flowers in my window now. Now that I am safe. I just want to let people know.

Read More
UNSEEN ECHOES - Objects of Domestic Abuse | Photography Project & Exhibition

He was a control freak. He made schedules for everything, even when I could eat or sleep. I was too scared to do anything differently.

I didn’t have the freedom to choose for myself.

Read More
UNSEEN ECHOES - Objects of Domestic Abuse | Photography Project & Exhibition

He would put sleeping powder in my drink. I’d wake up confused, not knowing what happened or where I was. Sometimes, I’d also feel pain, you know, down there. Maybe it was a good thing in a way, because I wouldn’t remember what he did.

But it still left me feeling violated and scared.

Read More

A New Name

The Same Mission

We have changed our name back to The Narrator’s Lens, but we are still the Christopher James Hall Foundation—just under a new name. Our mission and values remain the same, and we continue to create impactful projects, raise awareness, and drive change.

This rebrand is part of our journey towards becoming a charity, allowing us to expand our reach and make an even greater difference. While our name has changed, our commitment to amplifying voices and making a lasting impact remains as strong as ever.

Help Give People Like
Krystoff a Voice

Your support can make a real difference. People like Krystoff have powerful stories that deserve to be heard, and with your donation, we can continue to give them a platform. Every contribution helps us create exhibitions, amplify voices, and drive change. Donate today and be part of the movement.