riottafterhours

[riottafterhours]

Dear Ivy

I’m sorry. I’m sorry I failed to be the mom I know you always wanted. Truth is my dear, I’m not even sure I could’ve given you all that you deserved if I had stayed. You would’ve heard things about me and your father, horrible things. Things that you were and are still too young to understand. You would’ve heard that I was a liar, a manipulator and the worse of all: a killer. You see, from the very first years of my life, I was always described as very courageous and strong. I stood up for weaker people and wasn’t scared of defying authority if something did not feel right to me. It got me into quite the trouble when I was your age, but as I grew, I learned how to use it for good reasons and become a leader, a listener .. someone who would fight for the people she cared about and made sure everyone was okay and happy before I thought about myself. It led me to meet friends I still have today, although some of them decided to turn their backs on me shortly before you were born. The ones the stayed though are very present in your life, you aunt who is raising you is one of them. Wanting to see only the good in people also got me to one of the lowest points in my life, the time I’m about to tell you about .. is about your father.

First of all, I want ask of you that you do not get mad at anyone in your life for not telling your about your father this far in your life. They were only doing as I asked of them for your own protection because you did not deserve to grow up in shame or fear or what others would say or think if they knew what your father’s name was. His name is not on your birth certificate for a very clear reason: He did not want to be your father. Before I elaborate on that though, let me tell you a bit of background on him and I. We met when I was still a young twenty-one years old in college. I was finishing up my degree in teaching while wrestling on week-ends as a side-line job. At the time, I didn’t think I would make it this far with my wrestling career and I had always been told that having a backup plan was the best way to live a ‘secure’ life. When I look back on those times, I told myself that maybe I should’ve been crazy and not have listened to my parents about college. If I had gone straight into wrestling, sure I would’ve lived like a dog for a while .. a year , maybe two, but then I would’ve been okay. Instead, I went to college, got a backup plan .. but I also met him. Meeting him is a gentle way of saying that he got obsessed about me and found a way to gain my trust in a way that made me blind to his ‘’ other ‘’ side. We began dating only a few months after we met, my naïve self not noticing how jealous and paranoied he acted at first. Being my trusting self, when my friends started telling about the things they noticed, I didn’t believe them. I couldn’t help but keep their observations in the back of my head and pay more attention to the way he acted around him. The sadness I felt when I realised that my friends were right is something I only a few times in my life: at that moment, when I realised I wouldn’t be able to change him and finally, when I realise that the knife I had grabbed out of panic had entered his body.

Yes, you read right. Let’s back up a little though. I want make sure I explain everything before you finish reading this letter. I spend three years with him. Out of those three years, the first six months were spend like a normal couple, nothing major really happening. Of course we had the occasional couple fight about some of the others frequentations and such, but nothing big. Things turned a sudden turn one night when he had a lot to drink. It was at one of those parties that often happen in college. I wasn’t the biggest party girl, but your dad loved them, so I went with him from time to time to please him. That night though, I quickly started wishing I had stayed back in my dorm and had spend the night watching Netflix or playing some video games. But no, I went with him and that night changed my life .. and not for the best. I mostly stayed in my corner, making the occasional small talk but mostly listening to some music on the roof of the frat house we were at with the two people I actually knew. It was about one in the morning when I grew tired of the noise and went to ask him if we could go back to one of our dorms. I still remember the way he yelled at me and yanked my hand away from his shoulder but mostly, when I close my eyes, I still see the look he gave me when he turned towards me. Dark, cold. I got my first glance at the monster that night. The first of many. He made it clear to me that we were not leaving until he said so and when I protested, life hit me right in the face, literally. He slapped me right there in front of his friends. The silence that fell over the room felt like a cold shower, but nothing felt as bad as the sting on my face and the way the tears burned my skin as they fell down my face. That night was the start of three years of hell for me. Yell, insult, slap, punch, kick, choke and others horrible things are written on the list of horrible things you father made me endure.

Now you’re probably asking yourself ‘’ Why didn’t she just leave ? ‘’ And I have to give it to you baby, I probably should’ve just left. But remember how I only saw the best in people ? Yeah. I made that mistake with your dad too. With every attack, verbal or physical, I told myself that it was because of something I did wrong, that I triggered him. I started telling myself that I was what was wrong in the relationship, because I was scared of what he would do to me. Gradually, the strong, unstoppable girl became a weak scared little thing. He had won over me because I couldn’t admit to myself that he wasn’t gonna change. I did everything to hide what was really going on from everyone, spending hours coverings the marks with make-up and practicing my fake smile and happy, reassuring robot voice. I became a walking broadway show, just so nobody would discover what was going on and make things worst for me. I knew that if someone caught on, he would get even more angry and I would be the one paying for it. It took two trips to the hospital, and almost dying on the second one for me to realise that I wasn’t what was wrong .. it was not too long after that second trip that I discovered the one thing that would change my life .. You.

The second I found out I was pregnant with you, It was like the storm that had been my life calmed down for a few seconds, just enough time for me to know that I had to get out of there for my safety, but most importantly, yours. I don’t know why though, I still decided to tell him, in one last attempt at making him see the light. Oh how wrong was I. When the words left my mouth, he saw red. I somehow escaped him and ran out of the apartment, only coming back after I made sure he fell asleep. When I woke up that next morning, I found a piece of paper with a number on it and a simple sentence written near the phone number. ‘’ take a appointment and get rid of it. Today. ‘’ The number was from a abortion clinic. There was no way I was gonna get rid of you, my light. I had only be carrying you for a few months and already I loved you so much .. That’s why I decided to go get help. It was time. It took me everything I had to walk into that police station and even more to ask to meet with a detective to formally press charges against him. To my biggest surprise, the detective didn’t seem to believe me. Has he asked his questions, I could see him look over me, probably looking for marks or something that would give him ‘’ proof ‘’ but your dad hadn’t been able to touch me in a while since I did everything I could to escape him. When the detective told me that without marks or something that could incriminate him, there was nothing he could really do, I felt like my world was falling around me all over again. All those people that encouraged victims to speak out and seek help .. all of that was and is still bullshit.

One of the biggest lessons I’ve learn in life is that sometimes, you’re the only person that can settle your own problem. After that fiasco at the police station, I almost gave up .. that’s when you decided to make your presence felt. That first kick I ever felt from you was enough for me to decide that I was gonna get out of there, no matter what the cost was, as long as you and me were okay. The time to act came only a few nights after I went to the police station because your father came back home drunk from one of guys nights and almost immediately cornered me in the kitchen. ‘’ I know you didn’t get rid of it like I ordered you .. I can see the food disappearing quicker and you becoming fatter every day you fat cow .. ‘’ It’s not exactly what he said, but I’ll save you the trouble of knowing. For some reason, I had a weird feeling. I knew that in this position, I couldn’t escape him if he decided to charge, which he did soon after he was done talking his nonsense about how I was making his life a living hell and how I couldn’t be a good mother even if I wanted too. When I saw him start moving, I knew I only had a second or two to react. If I’m being honest with you, I think I blacked out. One second he was charging me .. the other I was grabbing one of the knives on the butcher block and shoving it in front of me, hoping to scare him .. but the noise that came out of him, I never expected that one. It wasn’t until I felt the warm crimson colored liquid start pouring on my hands that I realised what had happened: He had impaled himself on my knife. I fell with him to the ground, letting go of the knife as his blood started covering my arms, neck and chest and in a ultimate effort, I pushed his body off mine before my head fell back against the kitchen cabinet.

That night is still blurry in my head .. but I know for sure that I did not kill him on purpose baby. It was self defense. I need you to know and understand that. I am not a liar or a murderer .. I’m just a girl who go lost and broken because she trusted too easily and only saw the good in everyone. I’m still very messed up today baby .. I can’t trust anyone, I think everyone wants to hurt me .. I drink .. a lot more than I should. I think the only thing I haven’t touched is drugs and I’m never gonna touch that because even though I went through hell, I don’t want to forget about any of it. I want to feel every ounce of pain, cry every time I wake up from a nightmare and shiver every time my eyes gaze over a scar I wasn’t able to cover up with a tattoo .. but mot importantly, I want to remember the reason why I’m still breathing today .. You. I want to fight for you and be a better mother to you. I promise baby. It might not be a one day thing, but one day, I will be a good enough mother for you. One day we will have a normal life.

 I love you Ivy.

- Mom.