ABUSE IS NO LAUGHING MATTER
By, Toni Smothers
“Stop! Please, no more,” she pleads, as she crawls away from him.
Blood drips from her nostrils with its sickening taste – The ultimate reminder of his fist.
No dignity remains; her only thought . . . e s c a p e !
She scrambles under the table for protection.
The table is lifted and smashed against the wall.
His drunken, irrational anger lashes out – He kicks her hard – again and again.
Tearing without mercy into her fragile ribs.
She moans, partly from the immediate pain, but mostly from the loathsome shame.
His brutality evokes that which she detests the most within herself.
Her crumbling, pathetic spirit – Spineless traitor!
As yet again she dissolves, finally immune to the blows that follow.
Beaten and defeated . . . Her only wish . . . That she were dead.