She didn’t want to turn out like her mother and her grandmother. She didn’t want to be a housewife/mother living with an abusive boyfriend. She wanted a better life, not just for herself but for her young son.
She dreaded each day at 6pm, when HE was due home from his day working as a Taxi Driver.
If his dinner wasn’t ready on the table as he walked through the door each night, she knew what was going to happen. She also knew what would happen if she didn’t dress herself up, make up and all. Everything had to be in its correct place, including her.
It was 7pm. HE still wasn’t home. She knew where he would be…
It got to 9pm and she knew HE was now home, as she could hear him trying to open the front door with his keys. She listened to him struggling for a while, enjoying his disorientation.
HE started shouting through the door at her, the abuse would begin for another time…
She got up and opened the front door. HE started lunging towards her. She managed to move out of his way right at the last moment, before he slumped to the floor in a semi conscious state, which he regularly got in.
As she stood there staring at HIM, her young son snapped her out of the trance. He was standing at the bottom of the stairs crying. She knew what she had to do, like most nights. She took him up to bed and settled him.
After settling her son into bed, she walked back down the stairs. This was when HE started the abuse again. HE had managed to get himself up from the floor onto the sofa.
He started yelling the usual verbal abuse she gets from HIM everyday. He was demanding his dinner. She put his dinner in the microwave and tried explaining to him that it was ready at 6pm, like he requested. There was no reasoning with him in his intoxicated state.
This was when the physical abuse started. He started kicking and punching her. She just lay there. She had realised after so many beatings from this vile vile man that it was easier to lie there like a rag doll.
As he stood there looking at her he felt more anger rising up inside. Something in him snapped. That’s when he grabbed hold of her throat and started to throttle her, until she lost consciousness.
Later that evening when she came around, she found HIM lying in a pool of blood on the floor, next to her.
She was slightly disorientated for the first few minutes. Until she realised that HE was not moving. She checked him for a pulse, but he was dead.
After a while she managed to pull herself together and realised that her son was in the house. She ran up to his bedroom to find him crying uncontrollably and shaking with fear.
WHO KILLED THE ABUSIVE MAN?
WAS IT THE GIRLFRIEND OR THE SON?