Tammi's World

Don't Ignore It

This is a part of the series I am trying to do to help raise awareness of Domestic Abuse.

Other posts from this series can be found here:
Explaination
I'm Sorry

It was the night before Christmas Eve, 1987. Rainy. Sleety. Cold. Typical mid-west weather for that time of year.

And I remember...it was dark. The sky so over cast there was no light - no moon, stars. Nothing.

It started out a typical evening. I had been allowed to get a job and luckily it had those new fangdangled "flex hours". That meant I could go in at 7:00 and be home by 3:30. Left plenty of time for laundry, house work and cooking. Cause you know, working full time cannot be an excuse for getting out of "your chores".

Anyway....I had gotten home at 4:00 having stopped at the grocery on the way home. Dinner (and yes, I remember it THAT clearly) was simple fare. Roast beef, mashed potatoes, and corn. No dessert. There just wasn't enough money for that right now.

So everyone got home and dinner was on the table at exactly 6:00. It was especially quiet that evening. We could tell that "He" wasn't in a good mood and none of us wanted to risk being on the other end of his displeasure.

The boys gobbled down their meal and took off to go see their mother. I started to clear the table. He headed to the living room.

All of a sudden he stopped. There was a new photo out on the buffet table. It was a picture I had been given of Mama Vi and I had finally gotten it framed.

He picked it up and looked at it. I stood....frozen in the kitchen doorway.

"What the F*CK is this? Who told you you could put this in my house?"

"It's my mama. It was the first picture ever taken of her, and I really didn't think you'd mind. I'm sorry. I'll just take it to work with me."

As he throws it against the dining room wall...."Shut up. And don't try and pull that again."

I walked over to the broken frame and started to pick up the glass. I didn't realize right away that I was crying. Not til he yelled at me.

As he shook me and pushed me around the dining room, breaking more things, calling me and my family horrible names....I snapped. I just didn't give a damn one way or another.

I fought back.

I brought my knee up and even though scared to death I made contact with that oh-so-vulnerable area. I was shaking so badly I didn't do any damage, well except piss him off even more.

It was the most violent reaction I had ever seen from him. The fighting back was no longer half-assed. He was going to kill me. I knew it. Like I know my name is Tammi.

I was finally able - thanks to him being drunk - to get away. I ran out the back door - with him chasing me. I ran around the front of the house and down the side street that we lived on.

Now, we lived in town. It was still early in the evening. It was a cold blustery night and I was running down the middle of the street, no coat, barefooted and screaming my fool head off.

No one helped.

No one.

No one opened their door.

No one called the police.

No one helped me.

Now....I'll be honest with you. I wouldn't have offered me shelter in that instance. I wouldn't even recommend that someone step out side and try and interfere (although I will tell you I have done both since that time and will probably do it again) That is a VERY dangerous situation and you should NOT put yourself or your family in danger.

But you can pick up a phone. You can call the police. Even if all it accomplishes is stopping THAT instance, it's something. It may save a life.

That's the least you can do.

It's the VERY least you can do.

Just think about it......

Posted by Tammi at October 5, 2007 05:59 AM | TrackBack