A story about John

A Story About John

By: Annie Walk

He was my guiding star and my worst enemy. The way he praised me with his words made me fall more in love with him every day. The way he used to rage with words. He used to scream at me when he’s had a bad day at work. The words that not only pierce your ears, but create a wound that may not ever heal. He would come home, take his work boots off, and start mentally abusing me. He had the coldest hands. I will always remember how cold his hands were, grasping my neck so tightly I couldn’t breathe. But how good it was when he woke up in the morning. How he cooked my favorite things for breakfast. How he rubbed my feet and massaged every single inch of my body. The way he always told me I was his wife and he would never cheat on me. After eight years and two kids, the man himself cheated on me, mentally abused me, and almost strangled me to death.

I would’ve thought that after I took an a*s beating from his girlfriend that week, without being mad, he would’ve accepted me as a woman, his wife, his baby mother anything. He apologized, he had said the girl was crazy. I knew the truth. I was once that girl, why would she think any different? Why would John call a girl crazy if he didn’t make her that way? She has my John, just like I had Liz’s John. He promised he changed. Why couldn’t I believe in the man I love. Loved.

Not long after I found out the new girl. I wasn’t so surprised. Suddenly I was being sent to voicemail. I would think that a man would be at home with a two-year-old, a 2 month old, and a loving wife. He was not. Where was he? Good question. In the bar? At some random girl’s house? Driving his car somewhere? Only the Lord knows.

I always knew he had done something he knew was wrong. When he’d roll in the door about 4:30-5:00 AM, he would be so nice. He would come in singing “Good Morning Beautiful”. That was my all-time favorite song. I always slept in very skim clothing. Our house wasn’t that big, it was always super warm throughout the winter. I wore a tank top and boy shorts to sleep almost every night. He came in this morning laid in bed putting his cold, dry, icy hands up my tank. He whispered in my ear with his breath smelling like smoke. “What would you like for breakfast baby? I can make your favorite, biscuits gravy with bacon.” I really enjoyed this in the beginning. The more it happened, the more I grew to hate it.

One of the last mornings, before I left, he rolled in and started to begin the everyday special. I told him I wasn’t hungry. I was laying with my back to him. The next thing I know, I’m feeling this crazy sensation. Those icy hands were grasping my neck so tight. I woke up in the hospital. I had no clue where I was or were my precious angels were.

        I woke up with my 18-year-old neighbor sitting next to me. Caressing my hair, crying with tears of joy strolling down her face because the doctors said I was getting better. I guess he had choked me until I lost conciseness. She was walking by my house when she saw John running out my house franticly. He must’ve been having those crazy breakdowns he has after we have a dispute. Thank God that my neighbor was there. She saved my life.

        I was in the hospital for about three days. There was nothing wrong with me. The doctors just kept me for observation. My mom had my kids, I was glad John didn’t take them. God only knows where he could be. I hadn’t heard from him in three days. Until he walked in the door. My heart started racing. I wanted him gone. He tried to kill me. Why was he here?

        He walked in and sat down right next to my bed. “Hi baby. I’m glad you’re okay.” I wondered why he was glad. He strangled me nearly to death.

        “How did you find me?” I quickly replied. I had sat straight up in my bed now. My heart was beating so fast, I started to feel sick to my stomach. He just looked at smiling with those beautiful blue eyes. His eyes were the deepest blue you would ever see. That’s one of the main reasons I fell in love with him. His eyes were the first thing I noticed about him.

        “You’re my wife, I can find you anywhere.” His long thick eyebrows started to curl. I could tell he was getting mad. So, I knew that it was time to change the subject.

        “Have you seen our kids?” I asked him. I knew the answer long before he answered. He didn’t care about our kids as much as I did. Both pregnancies were a mistake. When John and I first got in a relationship, I was fifteen years old. I was still a baby, not ready for sex whatsoever. He made me feel insecure until I did. As soon as I did, I was always pressured. I hated it. He was the only boy I’ve ever kissed. The only boy I’ve ever loved. Why couldn’t I just love myself the way he loved me?

        After the hospital, I finally told myself it was time to go. It wasn’t fair to me or to my kids to constantly be going through these awful outbursts of abuse. We left. We moved to a new city. My kids did very well in their new school. I went back to school and finally received a college degree. Life was good without John.