We were winning the football game. My boys were playing amazingly, we were missing one boy, Zach, where did he go? I ask, he moved to Utah. The coach, a police officer, noticed he had a bruise on his cheek and his back had whip marks. When it came down to it, his dad had beat him for letting a skunk in the garage. Zach was placed with foster parents, his dad was friends with the officer who investigated the incident and that officer didn’t arrest the dad. Zach’s mom took Zach to Utah. I thought to myself, why did she not flee with Zach sooner?
I realized that my biggest lie was that I never said anything.
I didn’t tell when he choked me, giving me whiplash ( I have had problems with feeling 3 fingers on both hands ever since, a constant reminder) and slammed a snowmobile trailer on my legs, badly bruising my legs.
I didn’t tell when he told my son that he should of used a condom so he would have never been born.
I didn’t tell when he beat my small daughter while she was laying face down on her bed,
with a belt, bruising her back and legs.
I didn’t tell, but gasped inside while watching her walk alongside the pool. ( I am still wonder why the swimming teachers or mothers never questioned what happened to her.) My heart was breaking, my sole was screeching, my mouth sewn shut.
I didn’t tell how he kicked my son, rolling him across the grass.
I didn’t tell how he killed horses, dogs, calves and cows out of anger.
I didn’t tell for 20 years.
My life was in danger, he would kill me,
My children were in danger,
I told, I told, and I told
It is to late,
He is free,
He is still the same person,
He hurts people many, many people
His snare is stronger,
He brings many in.
How can I forgive myself?
I didn’t tell.
I lived a lie, by not telling.
I have hurt people.
The people I love the most are scarred forever.
Am I to blame for his freedom?
I didn’t tell.