Writers Workshop - Moments of Fear

That Girl over at Sunshine and Rainbows turned me on to Mama Kat's blog and this little writers workship. Each week Mama Kat posts 5 prompts and you choose one and write a post on it.

Here are this weeks:

The Prompts:

1.) Why did you do it?
2.) What is a common misconception about you?
3.) Describe a moment when you felt afraid.
4.) In what ways are you turning into your mother?
5.) Are you always right?

I am going to talk about 2 times in my life that I felt absolutely terrified. Both popped into my head immediately and I couldn't decide which one to write on...so I'll do both.

A little bit of background. My parents divorced when I was 11 years old and my mother remarried the year I turned 15. They were married all of one week before he started getting physical with her and even said the words "a man must beat his wife...how else will she ever learn". I watched and tried to help my mom...many times I'd call the police and they would show up and my mom would just send them away. So to avoid all the terrible things that were going on at home I would just spend most of my time at friends houses.

Fast forward approximately 9 months. I came home from writing an exam at school...it was about 11:00 a.m. and when I walked through the door it looked as if we'd been robbed. The house was trashed...everything was everywhere and no one was home. I found that odd because when I left for school that morning both my mom and stepfather were at home and had the day off from work (as far as I knew). So I scanned through the house and noticed not a thing was missing...again odd...if we had been robbed why wouldn't they take anything? Then, I walked into the bathroom and saw blood...everywhere. The towel bar had been ripped off the wall and was lying on the floor...the cordless phone had been thrown and now lay in pieces on the floor. I was absolutely terrified. Not knowing who to call or what to do...or where either my mom or stepfather were...I sat outside and waited...and smoked about a pack of cigarettes in one hour. Looking back, I guess I was in shock...I had no idea where to go or who to call.

Finally, I guess my mom remembered I'd be home earlier than any normal school day because of exams and she contacted her friend that lived down the street from us and told her to make sure I was okay. So she came down and stayed with me and explained that my mom had been beaten pretty bad and was in the hospital and that my stepfather was sitting down at the police station...attempting to press charges against my mom...when the police arrived to arrest my mom they immediately called an ambulance realizing she was the one that was in rough shape and not my stepfather who had a couple of scratches on his arm.

Eventually, the stepfather was deported (he was originally from Trinidad)...but not before our entire lives were disrupted. We lived in fear of his friends and didn't feel safe staying in our home or the town we lived in. So my mom moved us away...this was all before the deportation took place. He first had to stand trial because he of course pled "not guilty".

Amazingly I had blocked out the events surrounding why we "went on the run"...I mean not totally blocked it out but I didn't have memories of walking until the house or of what I saw in the bathroom...until just a few weeks ago out of the clear blue I was telling the boyfriend the story (I have no idea how it came up in conversation) and I saw myself...right back there.

The other time in my life I felt completely terrified...was when I found out I was pregnant. Though the boy's Sperm Donor and I were not taking precautions to prevent pregnancy (he wanted a baby)...I guess I just thought it wouldn't happen to me...I lived in complete denial for the first 3 months of my pregnancy and told no one I was pregnant. The SD and I had quite a rocky relationship by that time and the last thing I wanted was to have his baby. The day I finally went to the doctor's office to confirm my fear of being pregnant...I went home to tell SD the results and he seemed excited...okay good...until he realized it was Halloween night and I couldn't partake in the partying he had planned...so he told me not to bother even coming to the party that I'd be better off at home...I later found out his 'mistress' was at the party and he was looking for excuses to keep me away. Not to mention our fridge conked out on us that very same afternoon and he expected me to clean it out and stick around while the landlord delivered the new one.

As you can imagine I was beyond miffed and told him that if he left me home alone that night his things would be packed and outside the apartment door the next morning. He had no idea that I'd follow through...but by that point I had just had it with his attitude and treating me like crap. Two days later I found out about the mistress. She knew about me and knew I was pregnant and still she continued to see him. For a long time I was angry at her...but now I realize it was all him.

So I was alone, 20 years old, my mother and I were not on speaking terms at the time, I was absolutely terrified at the thought of bringing a tiny, helpless baby into the world. Actually, I remember very vividly the night he was born. My mom was in the delivery room with me but right after the boy was born she went home to get some sleep...and as he lay in his little hospital bassinette I remember staring at him and thinking to myself "what now?"..."How on earth am I ever going to care for this little guy?"

But I'm proud to say I have...he's such a great little guy and I love him more and more each day. SD has met him all of 3 times and honestly I feel more sorry for SD than I do for the boy. He's missing out on this amazingly smart, funny, adventurous kid. But I guess it's karma...he shouldn't have been cheating on me and he should have respected me. To this day he tells me he really messed things up...yes you did buddy.

I hope you enjoyed a glimpse into my turbulent life...I promise I won't always do such depressing posts!