He stormed into the house, slamming doors and screaming profanity. The hollow walls echoed as he emphasized his radical thoughts. My sisters and I sat in their room trembling as his rage tore through the house.
We knew his next move would be directed at us. We just didn't know which one of us, or what for.
His footsteps stormed eerily down the hall just moments before he slammed the door open with emphasis that knocked the pictures off the wall.
"Leah, damn you! What the fuck have you done? Why on Earth did you have someone else look at my property?" he belted.
Earlier in the day, my car had overheated and my boyfriend suggested that something was wrong with the radiator. I didn't realize it was criminal to have someone keep my car from exploding.
Somehow my mother distracted him long enough to relocate his rage to their bedroom in an effort to diffuse his fury and keep my younger sisters from witnessing the terror she knew would ensue.
"Leah, damn it. Get your ass in here." he screamed as I stepped terrified into their room.
His fists shook as his thunderous body stomped toward me. He slung his arm into the air and through the wall, pelting my hair with sheetrock as I backed against the wall.
"I'm going to stick my fist so far through your Dad's skull that his brains come out the back. Who would even want such an ignorant child as you?"
Tears streamed down my face, and I trembled as his rant continued.
His fury was out of control. He thrust his arm toward my throat, pinning me to the wall as my heart raced and I gasped for air.
"Mike, let her go!" my mom cried.
"Shut up, Bitch, or you're going to be next," he responded with more fury than before.
She cradled back into the corner of the room, and I stayed within his grasp.
I clenched my eyes closed with all my might and prayed that God would stop his fury. Tears streamed from my eyes as I wished to just get through this moment. I knew God could get me out of it, and only God could get me out of it.
Somehow, through God's grace, he loosened his grasp and I sprinted free. I sprinted outside into the pouring rain. My tears melted with the rain as I ran down the street. My feet pounded against the pavement. I could hear the impact of each step, but it was not an impact of fear but of gratitude.
I got away, and I would never go back.
That instant taught me that it is not okay to be treated that way. It is not okay to dread the hour he comes home every night. It is not okay to fear every breath you breathe. It is not okay to have someone lay a finger on you.
It is not okay to dread each day. Thank God I don't have to.
This post was prepared in response to a RemembeRED prompt for The Red Dress Club. The prompt asked the writer to recall a time when something seemed horrible but, looking back, actually brought you something wonderful