Writer's Challenge post

The pain surprised her, she had thought it would hurt less this time. Looking down, a tear fell from her cheek and disappeared into the pool of warm blood. She knew she would have to find somewhere to wash.

He used more force this time and the wound is bleeding bright red, flowing down her knees. How was she going to explain this one to her husband? The previous time she used the big root from the old sycamore tree as her excuse, tripping and falling and gashing her skin on the spade he left lying around. She still shudder to think how mortified he was, begging her forgiveness.

Oh god this can't go on, but she is addicted to him, drawn in by his insatiable hunger for meting out pain. Only she can fill his need and she gives it willingly, searing the tenderness of her soul to blackness. The darkness of his wishes make her catch her breath every time, her pulse quickening and her resolve fading away. She would do absolutely anything for him, her soul she has offered a long time ago.
 
She quickly dragged her pants back on and wiped the tears from her face swallowing a sob. There is no time to think about it now, she has to pick up the baby from her neighbour and finish her daily tasks. Later tonight she can lie on the old sofa on the patio and remember each touch and conjure up the euphoria of his hands all over her body. Relive the sharp blade slicing into her thigh, bringing her to climax as he held her close to him. Hot breath and sweat mingling with the animal lust so intensely stark. 

The car’s engine turns but it doesn't ignite. Over and over she turns the key and nothing happens! Oh god she can’t be stuck here in the middle of nowhere. What is she going to say she was doing there? Frantically she looks around her, there are no houses this far out of town. That is exactly why they chose this spot, she screamed every time they met. 

An old truck suddenly appears and stops behind her as she turns to look. A man gets out and comes towards her. Thank god someone is going to help her and nobody will be the wiser. “Engine trouble,” he smirks. There is a look in his eyes that makes her hair stand on end. She turns to run away but he grabs her by the hair and drags her down to the ground. “I have watched the two of you for quite some time and today is my turn with you,” he snarls. 

While she stares into the blue sky with resignation she knows today was the last day with her lover and this was not only the end of her love affair but the end of her life too. 
 

Death is nothing to fear...

Most of my life I was absolutely terrified of death. The mere thought of it would send me into an intense anxiety attack. I grew up as a Christian and all I knew was that if I kept on sinning I would go to hell. Churches and priests drum that idea into your head from an early age. It became a constant struggle to me, to live a life without sin. Whoever in this world can attain that is beyond me.

I gave up trying to be a perfect human being and thus the fear of death ensued in full force. Because of this kind of thinking I would have nightmares of the devil coming to collect me. I had dreams of Jesus’ second coming and me having to stay behind to live for all eternity in hell on earth.

My first close encounter with death came when my father died and because he was an atheist I was horrified by the idea that he would be in purgatory and I would never see him again. I almost went completely insane and because of anti psychotic drugs I was prescribed instead of addressing the real issue it almost destroyed my life.

When my son died by suicide I completely lost control. His soul was never going to rest and he would be cast in darkness for eternity. That was the kind of thing people told me and it drove me absolutely insane. My beautiful son couldn't handle the pressure of life and became involved with drugs that I believe ultimately led to his death. Because I wasn't a good mother to him he took his own life and it was up to me to save his soul.

For months on end I didn't sleep but searched the internet frantically for anything that could help me with this.  I became a crazed skeleton, not eating just trying to fight for my son’s soul. The thought of talking to anyone about this didn't even enter my mind. I wasn't going to end up in a mental asylum again. Thoughts of suicide ruled my life and I tried to join my son countless times. There were no rational thoughts in my mind, I had to die in order to help him or just make sure he wasn't going to be all alone in darkness.

I read extensively about near death experiences and finally found a website all about Buddhism. That saved my life and brought me back to my senses. I started meditating and realised that we are part of god and we all become one with our creator after death. There is no hell or purgatory and everything that happens to us in this life are lessons we need to learn to deepen our spirit.

Death is nothing to fear, all that happens is we go back to our soul’s origin and we are reunited with everyone who preceded us. I have no fear of death any longer and I don’t actively seek it either. When it is my time I will return to the All that is in All, our Creator, the Divine Force that is everything. I have absolute faith in my destiny.

Blessed Be and Namaste!

Damaged people are dangerous...

Damaged people are dangerous because they know how to survive.

Unknown

This touches me deeply because I know that when you feel you have lost everything of value to you then nothing scares you anymore. There is nothing that can hurt you when the worst has happened to you already.

There is no tragedy that terrifies you because your heart has been broken into a thousand little pieces before and you have survived that. When you have treaded that fine line between life and death it holds no fear.

There is not one thing in life that worries you because you have been to hell and back and lived to tell the tale. Whatever happens to you now can’t be as despairing as the agony you have lived.

Feeling this way is dangerous because I fear absolutely nothing. A few months ago I was caught in a robbery in a mall. The robbers and security guards were shooting at each other a mere 20 feet away from me. The sound of the shots being fired gave me a fright but I didn’t feel scared at all.

The only thing I could think about was that maybe I would be reunited with my son. My heart was racing in excitement and I felt so alive. People were crying around me and I didn’t understand why. I was completely calm and I realized then that no tragedy in this life will ever touch me again.

Namaste!

Is this my life?

I don’t even know where to start. My life reads like a fictional thriller - I mean, if I had to read my story, I wouldn't believe so many things could happen to one person. These past two years have been the straw that broke the camel’s back and I have been so deep in the dark pit of despair that it became almost home to me. 

When I was five years old, I remember crying at my uncle’s wedding because I had thought he belonged to me - loved only me. Oh, yes, he sexually abused me. It only stopped when my mother caught him when I was ten years old.

My mom didn't help me, but instead made me feel guilty for the abuse. I grew up thinking I was a dirty little girl. My mom warned me that my dad would kill me if he found out, so I never told him. I loved my dad so much that I didn't want him to know my dirty secret. This brings back so many emotions that I wonder if I'm doing the right thing by telling the world about me. (I have forgiven my mother because we do things we think is the best in the situation.)

Like so many victims of child abuse, I fell in love with a man who beat me up, drank like a fish, and cheated on me at every opportunity he got. At the age of twenty-one, I left him while six months pregnant with my son. It broke my heart later when I lay in that hospital bed among the families and smiling fathers. That afternoon, a school bus drove into a lake and 42 children were killed. Was that tragedy a warning of the life my son would lead? I have no idea, but it is burned into my memory. I knew my son Emile would grow up without a father to guide and love him.

My father was my idol. I always hoped I would marry someone like him. When he died at the age of 77, I thought I was going to die of heartbreak. Our family doctor referred me to a psychiatrist when he couldn't help me through the grief I was immediately put on anti-psychotic drugs and lost four months of my life as I can’t remember a thing that happened to me. Maybe that's a good thing, though. In that time, I cut my wrists to the bone and almost bled to death. Also while floating around like a zombie under the influence of the drugs, I decided I didn't want my husband and told him to get himself a girlfriend. I then drove off an embankment with my car and almost died. Paramedics in an ambulance were on their way back to the hospital when the man who saw the accident happen flagged them down. Without him, nobody would have found me as you couldn't see the car from the road.

When they reached me, I didn't have a heartbeat and wasn't breathing, so they resuscitated me. Because I wasn't wearing a seat belt, I'd flown through the front window of the car and cut my face to ribbons, broke my arm, and a broke few of my ribs. The psychiatrist decided I wasn't responding to the medication and had me admitted to a mental asylum.

While I was there, they stopped the medication and I returned to my senses. I thought I'd been thrown in the pit of hell. It took four days to prove that I was sane before they would release me. I found out my husband had taken my advice and started an affair and that broke me even further.

After months of fighting, my husband eventually ended the affair and we tried having a normal family again. Not that it was very normal; in fact, it was very dysfunctional. I married him when my eldest son was two years old, and when our second son was born, he stopped being a father to my first son. That is where the trouble started for Emile. He felt rejected and began acting out by stealing things to make himself feel better.

His behaviour escalated until, at age thirteen, I put him in boarding school.

The what ifs and should haves have driven me insane for years. After building a petrol (gas) bomb with a friend and throwing it in a field, he was arrested and put into a juvenile facility. Everything went downhill from there. He started using drugs and got caught up with drug dealers. He was working, but retrenched in December 2005 and moved back in with us in January 2006.

On February 5th, 2006, my life was shattered when my son was found hanging in a weeping willow tree in a park near our home.

Hell does not even begin to describe what his suicide did to me. I struggled with self-hatred, guilt, regret, blame, intense unbearable pain and insanity for almost five years. I still can’t believe he took his own life and without a note explaining why. In my heart, I know he never felt accepted and loved and I feel so much guilt for not helping him, for not making his life a better one. It will haunt me forever.

On May 15 2011 my husband died of a massive heart attack in front of me before I could get him to the hospital. It sounds completely insane, but when I saw he was dead, I immediately thought, "I could have my son back."

My youngest son Marco and I haven't had a good relationship, but in the past two years since his father died that has changed for the better. His father spoiled him rotten - let him do and say all he wanted. Their relationship went down the drain when Marco grew up - they fought almost every day for two years. My husband once told me that he didn't like boys, which was why he couldn't have a good relationship with them. I regret ruining my children’s lives by staying with him.

Our marriage had been a sham for years - my love for him died ages ago. He was jealous, demanding, controlling and unfaithful. Now that he's dead, I feel free. I know I should have left him years ago, but life was too comfortable. Still, I hate him for dying on me, leaving me here all alone to sort out my life after the damage he's done to both my sons. It's an irrational emotion, I know, but I can’t seem to help myself.

I feel like my life has made me insane. I don’t know if I will ever be a normal woman again. I try very hard to believe that things happen for a reason and look at the positive side of all of this, but the Lord knows I don’t know if life will ever be something to treasure. 

Since then my life has changed and I feel that a new door has opened in my life that can only lead to exciting and wonderful things. If I can survive all of this then you can too...

Namaste my fellow travellers!