Escaping the Darkness Read Online Free PDF

younger I had battles with my parents to use hot water for something as simple as a bath, something that is taken for granted today. As a child, I had a bath once a week and that was it – but as an abusedchild I felt the need to wash every time I came home after Bill had abused me; my sink filled with cold or lukewarm water, soap and scrubbing brush at the ready, trying to remove the smell of him from my skin. There were many times I rubbed myself raw with Vim as I tried to remove the memories created by the touch of his fingers. I never found a way to wash the memories away completely though.
I hated closing my eyes and even used to cross-stitch late into the night so that my sleeping hours would be drastically reduced. I don’t know how my body coped with such a small amount of sleep, or how I still functioned each day. I think what troubled me the most was that these were dreams in which I was powerless to stop Bill being part of my life again. All I could do was stay awake as much as possible. Sam continued to call me at least three times every day when he was at work and we were apart. The longer we were married the harder it seemed to spend time apart. It was unbearable at times and all I ever wanted was to have Sam at my side.
Three months had now elapsed since I had accidentally met Bill in town, and as each day passed, Sam began to instinctively realise that something was wrong. One morning as we sat eating breakfast, he asked me if I was okay. ‘Oh I’m fine,’ I replied wearily.
‘Are you sure?’ he asked me, his words full of concern.
‘Yes, positive, stop worrying, I’m just a little tired.’ I tried to make my reply sound as carefree as possible so that Sam wouldn’t worry.
Somehow I don’t think I managed it. Especially whenhe rang me from work five times that day, instead of the usual three. I knew then that I couldn’t continue to lie to Sam. I had to tell him about my dreams. However, saying you’re going to do something and actually doing it are two very different things. Sure enough, I kept on putting off telling him what had happened to me.
To this day I have never, ever, told Sam about those dreams. I remember I couldn’t face seeing the hurt in his eyes, or the tears I knew he would shed because he couldn’t protect me from them. The dreams continued through the next few weeks, my silence unremitting. The dreams remained my secret until finally, I could take no more.
It had now been almost four months since the dreams has begun. My mind was in turmoil. The chaos and confusion I felt were beginning to become unbearable. I found it harder and harder to focus on even the smallest tasks. Even making packed lunches for the boys became a test of both my mind and my ability to stay calm in the crisis I was living through.
Every time I had to think about what I needed to do next, or what filling was going into their sandwiches for lunch that day, I began to think I was auditioning for The Krypton Factor. ( The Krypton Factor was a television programme that tested contestants’ physical, mental and general knowledge abilities.)
It was happening again. Bill was invading my life. He was taking over, and the only difference this time was that I knew I wasn’t being forced by other adults to endure hiscompany. This time, if he appeared again, I had a choice. The only disheartening part was I didn’t know when that would be, or even if I would ever see him again.
Was I panicking over nothing?
Yet I felt that somehow, somewhere, he would find a way of getting to me again. He was like that, never stopping pushing himself forward until he got what he wanted. Even though he wasn’t physically part of my life, the fact that I had seen him again, when I believed him to be dead, was enough to panic and alarm me every time I ventured out of the house. I had started to avoid going to town, so at least that way I knew I was not putting myself in any unnecessary danger.
Even walking to school to pick up my