Free

Free

I'd done I; finally I'd got rid of him, once and for all. Two tear
stained faces looked back at me; my own, and that of my ten year old
daughter, Katie. Our reflections in the mirror; like two peas in a pod.
I'd meant to do it, but I hadn't meant for her to see it. She hugs me
tight, her wavy blonde hair tickling my face, as I feel her tears of
joy and sadness drip onto my shoulder.
"I love you mom," She whispered. I smiled, for the first time in what
felt like centuries. Things hadn't exactly been very happy lately. She
was living in a war zone. She saw things that a ten year old should
never have to witness, and what I'd just done, would just add to her
list of bad memories, memories that kept her tossing and turning at
night, and woke her up screaming for help.

Andrew, the love of my life; my first and only. We met when we were
sixteen. Then when we were 24, Katie was born, and everything was
perfect, we were the perfect family, mom, dad and child. But when Katie
was eight, things went horribly wrong. Andrew changed, he became more
violent, and would hit me for the smallest of things, like if the T.V
was on the wrong channel when he sat down. The first time he hit me, I
knew he didn't mean it, it was an accident, Katie saw it all, she
screamed and everything just seemed to slow down.
"Daddy stop, leave mom alone," She was only eight, didn't know any
better, didn't know that daddy hadn't meant to hurt me. But then the
beatings became more frequent. I sat on the floor while he lay into me,
but I'd somehow separated myself from my body, didn't feel a thing,
just numbness.
"Hit him back you silly cow! Take Katie and go, she doesn't deserve to
live like this!" My mind was screaming at me, but I just sat and let
him carry on. I'd managed to convince myself that he loved me, he
didn't mean it, he just needed an outlet for his stress and
anger.
"Why do you make me do this?" He'd yell, "It's your fault I'm like
this!" And it was true I told myself. If I'm a better girlfriend, then
he wont have to do this.
For two years I lived with the constant mental and physical abuse. I
was told I was useless and a bad mother, and I began to believe him. I
knew Katie was being affected by all this, but I didn't take her and
run, how could I, he may have been a shit boyfriend, but he was a great
dad to Katie, I couldn't take her away from that, couldn't force her to
endure the crap childhood I'd had as a child. So it carried on in the
same endless cycle, he'd come home, give me a punch or two, and if I
was lucky it was just a slap. He'd tell me who I could talk to, and who
I couldn't, what I could wear, how to do my hair.
"You look like a slag with that top on, go and change it for the black
one in the wardrobe, and don't wear eyeliner either!" So let him tell
me how I should look and act, and I wasn't myself anymore, I became
someone else every time he was around.

But one day he went too far. Katie was singing along to a song on the
box, and he screamed at her to shut up, and punched her. She was so
small compared to him that she fell to the floor, hitting her head on
the corner of the table as she fell. She had a gash on her forehead
above her left eye, but he didn't care. I saw the tears roll down her
cheeks and drop, drip by drip onto the carpet. That's when I knew he
had to go, my poor innocent little girl had been the outlet for his
anger. Her blood may have washed out of the carpet, but the memory
could never be washed out of her mind.
"Why does daddy hate me?" She whispered as I tucked her into bed. I
couldn't answer that. He didn't hate her, but he didn't exactly love
her if he would do such a thing. I couldn't even face sharing a bed
with him anymore. He wasn't the same man, he was more like Jackal and
Hyde, one minute it was:
"I do love you Danni, I couldn't live without you, you mean the world
to me," And the next minute it was:
"You're a stupid bitch, I wish you'd just die sometimes, can't you see
that your own daughter hates you?"
"I don't hate you mom," She said in the car on the way to school, "I
think you're the best mom in the world, daddy just doesn't see what I
see,"

But from then on, he decided that Katie was a better punch bag than I
was, and so took his anger out on her instead. She had a note for P.E
every week because getting changed would show the bruises he'd left on
her. I felt like the worlds worst mother watching him beat the crap out
of her for nothing.
"A mother is supposed to protect their child from harm, not stand and
watch her being harmed," I thought as she lay sleeping that night. She
looked so small and innocent. She'd done nothing wrong, so why was I
letting her be punished for my mistakes?

"Danni, where the hell is my gun?" He spat when he came home from work
one day, but I just shrugged. He had a habit of cleaning his gun and
police badge when he came home from work. He was always misplacing it,
and found it somewhere simple like on the kitchen work surface. Not
before he'd given be a beating for loosing his gun, even though he knew
full well I hadn't touched it. Today was no exception.
"Have you looked in the kitchen, or on the bedroom cabinet where you
left it last time," I said calmly.
"Or in the bathroom," Katie said helpfully. And then he turned on
her.
"Have you been playing with my gun again?" He shouted, "What did I tell
you would happen if you ever touched my gun again," He said grabbing a
scruff of her hair, he slammed her into the wall, and she sunk to the
floor sobbing. I felt so weak and helpless as she crouched in the
corner while he screamed and lashed out at her.
"Where is it you stupid bitch?" He yelled over and over again, but he
wouldn't let her defend herself. But like a bad mother I just walked
away, but I wasn't going to let him carry on like this, beating my poor
innocent daughter to a pulp for no reason. He was so busy laying into
her he didn't even hear me come up behind him. I felt so powerful
holding the gun, like I could do anything. I could end his life with
one pull of my left finger. But was I doing the right thing? I heard
Katie cry out
"Daddy please stop!" And something she'd said echoed round in my head,
"Why does daddy hate me?" And without a trace of doubt in my mind, I
shot. One, and he turned in shock clutching his chest. The fear in his
eyes gave me a sort of sick happiness. I raised the gun again, feeling
strength and power rise up inside of me, all the strength and power
he'd had over me for two years.
"Danni please, I love you!" He whispered. And for a split second I
believed him, wanted everything to go back to how it used to be, and
then, that second was over.
"It all ends here," I said, and pulled the trigger.

Bang,
"That's for Katie," Bang,
"And that's for me, and all the shit you put us through,"
Katie jumped with each shot, and I could see the fear in her eyes too.
Andrew slumped to the floor, dead. Katie's blue eyes glittered with
tears, tears of happiness. I just wanted to protect her from that
monster, she was my only child, and she needed me to protect her, I
didn't want to see her getting hurt, she didn't deserve it, I did. But
she'd never be hurt again. Looking at the cut on her lip, the bruise on
her cheek and the gash above her eye, I knew I'd done the right
thing.
"I'm sorry Kate, I should have done that a long time ago." But the
smile on her face said it all. As she sat on her swing that afternoon,
everything seemed so blissful. The sun was shinning, and her laughter
ran out like a bell for the first time in ages, and her smile could
have lit up the whole universe. We were safe now; there was no reason
to be scared anymore, he'd gone, and we were free.