It started with the slaps to the back of my head. Hard. Each blow causing my vision to go black for a second or two. I don't know if it was when I wrapped my hand around the scissors trying to ward him away. His face contorted with rage and disgust, like "how dare you". Funny to think about it now. The audacity of a man in his 40s beating on a ten year old girl to become disgusted when she instincytried to protect herself. You'd think most people would have that lightbulb or mirror moment. Not Santos.
I remember the fear that came over me seeing his face.
Next thing you know he had lifted me into the air by my throat and threw me through a table.
Weird as it sounds, I think I died there.
I remember the whoosh oof air by my ears as he slammed me down. They way the air left my lungs when I hit the floor. They way not even the dog protected me.
That's when I knew. I will always be alone. No one protected me in that moment. I don't remember the feeling of the hits or the slaps after that. I just went limp and silent. Tears rolled from ymy eyes but no sound. No cries or pleading for mercy. Just a quiet resolve of a 10 year that thought she was going to die.
I lay there on the floor, face swelling, hyperventilating but numb, empty.
Eventually he returned and grew angry all over because I wouldn't get up. I lay there limp. I realize now it wasn't shame that made him angry but fear that he has severely injured me and had no one to blame it on.
That was the first time I disassociated. Maybe thats not the right term, but it's like the memories are from outside and happening to someone else. It's only happened a few times, twice I think. Always when it's a hurt too much for my mind to comprehend or fathom.
Sometimes it's hard to be alone but the cost of loving someone is too costly in my experience.
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