Counting the Days (14 page)

“
But Danny, its time for Samantha to nurse,” I replied. “She hasn’t nursed since before four o’clock. She’s got to be really hungry by now. All I need is ten fifteen minutes and she’ll be finished. That’s all.” Samantha’s little voice was starting to sound hoarse, but she continued to cry.

“
She won’t die if she nurses later. All you want is someone sucking on your tits. That’s all,” he said releasing my hair. “I know that’s the only reason why you nurse the baby. You’re just Puerto Rican trash. That’s all.” With that he hauled out and hit me close-fisted right across my left jaw. The force of his blow knocked me to the floor. “That’s what you get for treating my baby like a sex tool.”

I heard Samantha’s muffled cry and called out to her, “Samantha, mommy’s coming, baby.” I tried getting up, but my head was spinning. I knew Samantha was crying loudly, but to me, it sounded as if she were miles away, it was so muffled. Danny grabbed me and with one swift twist had me face down on the floor. “Danny…please, don’t,” I whimpered. I was so dizzy from the punch, my brain felt like it was swimming.

He pulled my pants down and ripped off my panties. “You want to know what it feels like to be used as a sex tool?” he screamed. After unbuckling his pants, he pinned my head to the floor and then violated me anally. Violently he penetrated my rectum, it felt like he was ripping my body in two. I held in my scream so as not to alarm Samantha. I bit my tongue and my tears flowed as I cried quietly to myself from the pain. I couldn’t remember what happened thereafter, because I must have passed out.

When I came to, the room was completely dark. “Samantha,” I whispered. I slowly got up, pulled on my pants, and painfully walked into Samantha’s room. Danny was sitting in the rocking chair feeding Samantha a bottle of formula. I stood there glaring at him in silence. It was as if I was staring at the devil himself…evil…pure evil. His facial expression made my skin crawl.

“
What? Did you think that I couldn’t take care of my own child? You were sleeping your lazy butt off, so I went to the store and bought a bottle of some formula,” he said so matter-of-factly. At that moment, with every cell in my body, I hated him. All of a sudden, the room took a spin and I collapsed onto the floor, out cold.

The next morning I awoke in the hospital. Danny was, once again, playing the doting husband and father. “Oh, hello there, sleepy head,” he said to me playfully. “Say good morning to mommy, Samantha.” He extended his arms out, handing the baby to me. “I’m going to get some breakfast,” he said turning to leave the room. “The doctor will be in momentarily to check in on you. Watch what you say…I’m be back in a little bit.”

When he left, I immediately put Samantha to nurse, but she fussed and began to cry. She didn’t want the breast. I was immediately brokenhearted and began to cry. Danny had apparently bottle fed her all night long and now she didn’t want me. I wept as Samantha fell asleep in my arms.

Shortly thereafter, the doctor came in and began rattling questions off to me. He asked the who, what, when, and where. After getting my version of the scoop, the doctor informed me that the lining of my rectum was torn and that I had lost a lot of blood due to hemorrhaging. The doctor stated that he’d also noticed some bruises on various areas of my body, both old and new ones. He informed me that the gash on the left side of my face was causing my left eye to blacken and that it was also very swollen. He stated that most women that come in with similar symptoms are almost always a victim of some type of domestic assault or rape. “Mrs. Monroe, were you raped?” asked the doctor.

I couldn’t look the doctor straight in the face, so I turned away and looked down at Samantha. I thought to myself, this is your chance, Marilyn, to get out of this marriage and have Danny put where he belongs, behind bars. For a moment, I thought in silence, should I or shouldn’t I? I finally looked up at the doctor and began to talk. “I’ve been married to my husband for almost two years and throughout those two long years, he…uh…he…what I’m trying to say is that he…I know that he doesn’t mean to, but…he…um,” I stuttered turning my face away from the doctor’s gaze. I couldn’t get the words out. I just couldn’t say them. I was so embarrassed and so scared. I just couldn’t. I was so ashamed.

The doctor sensed my dilemma and asked, “Mrs. Monroe, does your husband beat and rape you? Did he do this to you?”

I looked down at Samantha and began weeping. “I…I…can’t, he’s my baby’s father…and I…I…he’d kill me if he heard me talking to you. You just don’t understand…nobody understands…he’s under a lot of pressure all of the time and I get in his way…I do and say a lot of stupid things. I know he doesn’t mean to hurt me, he just…” I said with a shaky voice, “he just loses his temper once in a while. That’s all. He has a problem, but I know that he loves me and doesn’t mean it.” I could feel my soul rocking out from under me. What am I doing? Do I have a death wish or something?

The doctor seemed alarmed and pushed, “Mrs. Monroe, are you telling me that your husband beats and rapes you?”

As the doctor finished asking his question, Danny walked in. I looked past the doctor straight at Danny. His facial expression told me that he heard the question. This is it, Marilyn, it’s do or die time. “No, doctor. My husband does not beat or rape me. He’s a good man and he would never intentionally hurt me or my daughter,” I said calmly holding back my tears and staring straight into Danny’s eyes.

The doctor turned to face Danny and asked, “Mr. Monroe, could you please step out a moment while I speak with your wife?”

“
No, I won’t step out a moment while you intentionally poison my wife’s thinking,” Danny challenged.

“
Sir, you do realize that I’ll need to call security if you don’t cooperate?” the doctor retorted.

“
You do what you’ve got to do, but I’ll have you know, that I will have my attorney here so fast that your head will spin. So, go for it, doctor,” Danny answered nastily.

The doctor turned back to me and stated, “Mrs. Monroe, I’ve taken it upon myself to contact the police. It’s obvious that you have been the victim of an attack. They’ll be here shortly to discuss the details of your attack with you.” The doctor gave me two prescriptions, one antibiotic and the other for pain. “You’ll be released after you’ve spoken with the police, okay,” he said turning to leave the room. “Good day, Mr. Monroe,” he said before leaving the room.

Danny came to the side of my bed with a fake smile on his face and began stroking my hair. “What did you tell that doctor?” he asked speaking between his teeth.

“
I didn’t tell him anything,” I answered.

“
If I find out that you told this fool doctor anything, that will be the last of you,” he threatened.

“
He wouldn’t have been asking questions if you’d been nice last night. Instead of acting like an animal and roughing me up. You caused me to be here,” I quickly quipped.

Danny’s right hand was instantly around my neck applying slight pressure. I tensed up and Samantha began to stir. “Don’t be sarcastic or I’ll just have to show you, again, who the boss is,” he threatened with a smile on his face. The nurse walked in and Danny immediately slid his hand down to my breast acting like he was copping a feel. I flinched because my breasts were engorged and tender from Samantha’s not nursing all night. He leaned in and kissed me on the lips. The nurse was only in the room momentarily and then left. Danny squeezed my left breast until I cried out and then he also left the room.

Samantha was startled and woke up. I lifted her up close to my face and after sniffing her neck I tenderly kissed her. Together we both cried, cuddling each other into a peaceful state. Once Samantha was calmed down, I once again tried to nurse her and this time she latched on. “That’s my sweet girl, don’t you worry your precious little head. I promise you that this family of ours is going to make it. We are going to get through this trial and find true love at the end of it. I swear. Don’t you worry, my sweet girl, we’re going to find it,” I whispered.

When the police came, Danny, who had returned about fifteen minutes prior, tried situating himself in the room like a tough guy. His act didn’t work to his advantage, because they made him leave. Let me tell you, I’m glad he left without a fight, because these officers were not playing, they would have busted his butt and arrested him. Two male officers sat outside with Danny, while I sat alone with two female officers for about an hour and foolishly denied all the allegations made against my husband. They almost persuaded me to talk a few times, but I quickly caught on to their game and stuck with my stories. They informed me that they did not need my statement to arrest my husband for domestic violence. “That’s nice, so why don’t you do it? Why do you keep asking me to press charges?” I asked.

“
Mrs. Monroe, it’s so much healthier for your psyche if you press charges against him,” replied one of the female officers.

I laughed sarcastically and asked, “How is it healthier if I press charges against him? Don’t you understand that this man will kill me if I make a statement against him?”

With that question, the officer pressed harder for information. She claimed that they would protect Samantha and me at all costs, if I decided to press charges against him.

“
No thanks, I’ve heard too many stories about how the police were protecting a battered wife, who coincidentally ends up dead, days, months, years later,” I said sarcastically waving them away. This conversation was over. “If you guys want to proceed with charges against my husband, that’s fine, but you’re not going to get a statement from me.”

The officers looked at each other and one of the lady officers asked that Danny be asked back in. Danny came in wide-eyed and I could tell that he was very nervous. When he looked over at me, I shot him a smile, hoping that it would make him feel more at ease and would calm him down. It seemed to make him more nervous and he suddenly looked frightened.

The police told him to relax. They informed him that if they were going to arrest him, they would have done it already. They informed him that I was uncooperative and didn’t give a statement. They also informed him that I also denied that Danny is the one that is hurting me. One of the female officers got into Danny’s face and flat out told him that she believed that I lied and that they would be watching him. They read Danny the riot act. Danny looked like he had crapped his pants when the officer told him that if anyone says ‘boo’ about him, he was going to be arrested for domestic violence, assault and battery, and rape. The other female officer then turned to me and begged me to call her immediately if I needed to talk to her about anything. She handed me her business card and the police left. It was totally righteous.

The next few days were total peace. Danny almost acted human. He did and said nothing in an aggressive manner. He would leave early in the morning to go to work and would come home early. At first, he actually would stay home every night and sit in front of the television. He didn’t go out with his friends. He didn’t go anywhere. A few times, he helped me clean up the kitchen after dinner and he even helped me a lot with Samantha. He did this all without complaining about anything. Nothing…It was almost as if he were in shock. Of course, that only lasted until the weekend and then he was back to his old self. A little nicer, but back to his old self, regardless.

Over the next months, Danny would come and go as he pleased. Let me tell you, he was gone most of the time, which, I might add, was great. When he did come home, he was miserable. He couldn’t conceal his hatred of being around me. Of course, the rapes and beatings still continued, but none so severe that I would land up in the hospital again. He learned from his conversation with the police the last time and he definitely was afraid that I would call them if he went too far. For months, to no avail, he tried to find the business card the officer gave me. I hid it in a baby doll sitting on one of the shelves in Samantha’s room. He’d never find it in a thousand years.

Sometime after Samantha’s second birthday, I found out that I was pregnant again. I became so depressed that I wanted to die. I hated life and knew, for sure, that god was punishing me for all the bad things that I’d done in the past. Samantha was the light of my life, but the thought of having another child with this monster was overwhelming.

I didn’t tell Danny right away, because I knew that he would be very unhappy. As the days passed, he couldn’t understand why I was so depressed. He tried his usual brutal methods of motivation, which obviously did not work, so he asked his mother to help me with Samantha. She was eager to help. I don’t know why, because she never showed interest in helping me before. Regardless, she came and helped me with Samantha. All I had energy to do was eat and nurse Samantha. I didn’t watch television, make conversation, nothing, all I did was sleep. Cathy did all the cooking and cleaning, because I just couldn’t. I was so depressed that couldn’t get out of bed to even take a shower. Everyday, Samantha would beg me to play with her, but I couldn’t. Sleep. I needed to sleep. Forever.