The sound of his fist striking her face made a dull thud, which surprised her. She had known for months this moment was coming; it was just a matter of time. She had thought about how it would feel, but never did she wonder about how it would sound.

Really, it didn’t hurt. In fact, she didn’t feel anything at all. It was like it wasn’t even happening to her – she was just an observer, watching. She viewed the action from above as the man told the woman she deserved it, because she was a selfish, spoiled bitch. She watched the woman crying, asking “Why?” over and over. She – the observer — wanted to help the woman, but what could she do? She didn’t have a job, no family to turn to, so how could she help the woman?

The man had the woman on the floor next and was crushing her face into the carpet. He was telling the woman what hell it was for him to live with such a self-centered, know-it-all cunt. She wondered why the woman didn’t fight him, why all she did was sob.

If only she had done better, then the woman wouldn’t have to be treated this way. She should have thought more carefully before she spoke. She should have made sure dinner was ready on time last week. She should have done his laundry before hers. It was her fault that the woman she was observing was going through this.

The counselor had explained that she was suffering from depression caused by “battered women’s syndrome”. She couldn’t accept that; everyone knows that a woman isn’t abused until her husband leaves a mark on her: black eye, broken bones. And even then, that’s only her side of the story.

“What did you do to provoke him?” her mother had asked when she finally had enough courage to tell. It was after the fourth or fifth time he had thrown her around the house. That time he had held her down to repeatedly spit in her face. “Well, he didn’t hit you or anything. Don’t you think you’re being just a bit melodramatic? After all, you’re not that easy to live with…”

The counselor told her to be careful if she decided to stay with him. “You’re just going to have to go along with everything he says and does. Watch what you say, and don’t talk back. If you’re going to stay, it will be a real effort to keep him from going into a rage and seriously hurting you someday.” But she knew she could do it.

She was wrong. She continued to watch as the woman laid cowering on the floor where she had been thrown. The man grabbed the crying woman’s hair and started dragging her towards the bedroom. “I hate you! You’ve ruined my life! I’m going to get my gun and blow my brains out, and you’re going to watch because YOU are responsible for it! My brains will be splattered all over you, and you’ll know it was all your fault!”

Suddenly, she wasn’t the observer anymore. She had again become the woman being dragged towards the bedroom she had shared with her husband for only seven months. She was appalled to find herself actually praying for him to go through with his threat, thinking, “Just please do it and leave me alone!”

(more…)