After my dad paid my mom off, I moved in with her, and all was great. It was perfect.
She was sober.
She loved me like she used to again. I believed the future was bright for us, finally.
Just after a few months things went south.
She started hiding her beer in big cups, old friends started coming around.
Random men were in and out of the house.
Life changed so fast.
Then my mom met James. Fuck you James.
When they met, James was with this women named Darcy at the time.
She had bruises all over her body and never said it was James that did this to her. But it was a serious red flag.
One night my mom was there and apparently Darcy jumped out of a window, she was fine. But we never seen her come around again.
Again, red flag.
So James moves in pretty quickly. There was constant fighting and weird things he would do. I remember him trying to claim what was his, which was my mom. He took ownership of her. He would mess with her life. Completely messed with her van so she couldn’t leave him and eventually, mom caught on and finally wanted to leave him.
Thank god, right.
No. It was early October 2010 where James decided to climb through a window in the apartment hallway jumping on to our balcony and walking right inside our apartment.
Where he then grabbed a big seashell and decided to aggressively hit my mom over the face with it, as many times as he could.
My mom thought she was going to die.
This time I wasn’t there, I was at a friends house right upstairs. My brothers and sisters come banging on the door. When I walked into our apartment, my mom was sitting at a chair, waiting for the police.
My mom’s face looked like something you can’t even imagine. It wasn’t her. She was covered in blood. Could barely see out of her eyes. Lots of swelling all around her face. It was devastating.
The justice system decided to only give him a month jail time because my mom had no broken bones.
That night she went to the hospital, and I stayed with my siblings.
That night was the night I had to clean up my own mothers blood out of her carpet so my siblings and her wouldn’t see that anymore.
As I sit there scrubbing and bawling my eyes out I’m thinking:
“WHO THE FUCK WOULD WANT TO LIVE THIS WAY.”
My mom, because her way of living never changed.