SarahB95's Journal

I had been snoozing on my friend’s sofa for a few minutes. It was a fine summer day but I was exhausted. My pal had been out partying whilst I sat with her two children. I was 18 years old and coveted my new friend’s entire lifestyle, but then I was only a naïve wee thing back then. She had two wonderful children, was incredibly popular, very attractive and had a stunning home in the centre of the Georgian City of Bath. But what did I know? One thing was certain, whatever I did not know then I have certainly worked out now. It was the manner of ‘learning’ that was none too sweet. Just as I was about to drift off to dreamland there was a knock at the door. Her front door was never locked and (most) visitors just came on in. Ali, my friend, was in the kitchen, just by the front door and I could hear a voice calling her and a dulled conversation followed. Then footsteps came nearer to where I was trying to grab 40 winks and the voice got clearer. The Northern accent gave away who the owner of the voice was. It belonged to ‘Slim’. Ali’s latest admirer. She had been raving about him for the last few weeks. He was the same age as she was, both of them 26 to my 18. As I said, I coveted her entire lifestyle, and however wrong I knew it was, I also coveted her male admirers. This time I was in for a shock. A shock I am still recovering from, 20 years later. He was not interested in Ali. He was interested in me! Before I knew it, we were an item. And I was besotted. So we decided to spend the summer months camping Cornwall! It was beautiful. We settled in St. Ives for a while and I can see the blue skies and feel the heat beating on my back to this day. I do not think it will ever leave me, those days. My life was about to take a drastic turn. He hit me. No. He BEAT me. I was nearly six months gone with our child and he beat me until I was on the floor with a broken nose and remained concussed in the tent we shared. He would not allow me any medical attention and if you have ever been concussed, you will know you cannot walk, keep ANYTHING down and generally feel like a pile of poop for, in my case, just under three weeks. There was no water on the site we were on, the nearest tap being an hour down (and back up!) a twisting cliff path. As I write this, it all seems so surreal and far fetched but remains so clear in my mind. I can remember the tiniest details. He sat and watched as I went through a night of tearing pains and as the sun was just about to rise, he watched our daughter come into this world. Never even being given a chance to take one single breath, thanks to her father. I sometimes think maybe she is better off. Then I kick myself hard and remind myself how UTTERLY STUPID that thought is! He knew I wanted her body to be swept to sea. He put his own wee turn on my desires and dragged me to the edge of the cliff. I wondered if he would push me onto those jagged Cornish rocks and put and end to my misery. I thought about jumping with my daughter but couldn’t. So, yet again, I did as he demanded. I waited and watched as the tide went out and then watched her tiny body tumble from my arms and slowly approach those rocks. My brain was telling me she was dead already. My heart was shattered. And I was completely brainwashed by this man. It took me a long time to recover from what he did. I still am. I get low times and right now is one of them. But I listen to My Son laugh. I look into his eyes And then I know…. All is Well………. Be at peace…be still.