Personal Narrative Essay: Domestic Violence

Decent Essays
So, it is going to be another of those terror filled Saturday nights. I’m nine years old, but can recognize the onset of domestic discord. My cruel father is spoiling for an argument with my mother and we (Danny, my brother, and I) know how this is going to end. As it always happens, there is going to be crying. Mamma, Danny and I will be crying before long. There are other siblings, but they are younger and presumably not as aware of what is happening. At times such as these, Danny, who is fifteen months younger than me, and I stand together. There is no talking, but I believe our physical closeness provided some sort of psychological support for each other. Danny and I will cry without audibly sobbing, wiping away our tears quickly before they’re noticed, for crying would earn us a beating. Crying would mean “that Danny and I are looking for something to cry for”, the rationale of an abusive father and husband.
My mother is pressing the clothes she washed earlier that and the previous day
…show more content…
She is trying to focus on her task and did not see him step out of the room just behind her. There is a flurry of movement and as if in slow motion she and the ironing board seem to float towards the ground. My sense is that the board hit the stove, but I’m not certain, and sent burning embers mushrooming upwards and outwards. My mother struggles to her feet as she is trying to untangle herself from the ironing board. She is dazed. None of us risk helping. There is blood running down her face. The landlady and a female neighbor rush to her assistance. There is a deep gash above one of her eyes and she is bleeding profusely but thankfully, they were able to quickly staunch the bleeding, but thought she would probably need stitches. As they left, with her, for the hospital, my father was sheepishly begging them to tell the doctors that her injury was the result of a fall and I understood for the first time that what he did was
Get Access