Holding my fist tight, against the dirty carpet while trying to gain every ounce of strength to just move.
My tears running down my hot bruised cheeks, waiting for the next set of his swinging fists to collide with my already swollen and beaten body.
My 3-year-old son crying, screaming, begging out for me. "Mamma!", over and over again.
Trying to get up to flee to my crying son, a stabbing pain shoots between my eyes and nose, piercing my eyes shut with a stinging hot sensation, while tears were gushing uncontrollably, down my face.
My nose, I could not touch. for the pain was so unbearable, while tasting more blood.
My ears, had a one note tone, ringing loudly, muffling the sounds of my crying child and his ranting father.
On the ground, holding my head, I realized what he had done. Remembering the last image of the heel of his boot, connecting to my face. He, again, knocked me down.
I start begging and pleading.
I can hear my sons screams, filled with fear and hurt. Screams off sorrow, begging and longing of the end.
Telling him I'm sorry isn't working nor Is staying silent. Both are making him mad.
"I really didn't mean to want to go to my family this weekend", "it was just an invite", "I'm sorry", Is making him even worse.
Last thing I remember was excruciating pain at the back of my head.
Waking in the dark.
I hear my son screaming and no one else around.
I really can't move nor speak... I really am trying to stay awake with all my might while trying to motion my son to come by my side.
I can feel a few fingers move but he looks so scared, I must look like a mess, but I try again.
After a few more wiggles with my fingers, he crawled beside me, crying and snuggling's his arms on my body and placing his head on top. drifts to sleep eventually but I do not know how long it took.
That is the moment I felt like the worse mother in the world. Not only did I not protect us, but right now, at this very moment, I couldn't comfort him either! Mentally tormenting myself for all the blame is mine.
I'm not sure how long we were down on the floor, but it seemed like days. Both lying in my filth of blood and fecal matter.
We can hear a dog bark and maybe people? Too far to be near.
My son's body went stiff.
Little by little, his weight felt less and less on my body. Within minutes his body was gone
My eyes closed in hope.
The hope that my son will find help.
The hope that my son will grow strong and mighty.
The hope that my son grows old and wise.
The hope he will forgive me for what just happened to us.
The hope that my son will live happy, loved and safe.
The hope I will die.
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