Chapter One: The Pain of the Memory

Chapter One: The Pain of the Memory

A Chapter by Nichole Marie

Caitlyn remembers when the abuse began


"Dad please!?" I begged. I was pushed up against the corner in my room. The bright blue color of my walls did not match the mood in this room. Not now and most definitely not ever.
"You think that I'm made of money?!?" My father yelled at me. Fear covered my face and I had no need to hide it. "No! It’s just that you won’t be here and we're running low on groceries! I just thought you would want grandma to eat real food while she was here..." I let my sentence fade off, rethinking on what I was going to say, but involve my grandma in any situation and I am for sure saved from a horrible beating.
"Fine! But you better not spend a penny of it on yourself! You hear me Caitlyn!?" His voice was even more aggravated, but still, my father couldn’t hit me with his dear old mothers name hanging in the air. Even though I know I was sort of safe...I was still scared and couldn’t answer.
"Damnit Caitlyn! Do you hear me!?!?"
"YES!" I yelled scared that he just might hit me.
Then he turned around to walk out of my room. When he slammed my door the picture of my mother fell off my night stand. Thankfully it didn’t break because I put a pillow right below the night stand that the picture proudly was placed on, but it’s not like it hasn’t been broken before. All though I knew I had saved myself from a beating, I still ached all over. I walked over to my night stand and picked up the picture of my mother and gently set it back on my night stand. My mother’s long wavy brown curls took my breath away as always, her eyes were as green as a field of grass on a bright sunny day, and her smile, was as brilliant as the sun. I missed her so much that it hurt, but there wasn’t much that I could do about that now.
 I walked over to my desk and grabbed my lap top then went over to my bed and turned it on. While I was waiting for everything to load I decided to gather my pajamas and anything else I would need for my shower after I checked my email. When I logged onto my AOL account my friend Cass was on....She IMed me first...
Classy_Cass: Heyerz!
xSpaz_monkeyx: ...hey…
Classy_Cass: What’s wrong?
xSpaz_monkeyx: nothing really...
Classy_Cass: Did your dad hit you?
xSpaz_monkeyx: No, not this time, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t scared as hell...
Classy_Cass: I don’t get why you don’t just tell somebody, they could help you.
xSpaz_monkeyx: Cass you promised!
Classy_Cass: I know I did, but really...its getting pretty bad...I don’t want to wake up one day and find out your dead.
xSpaz_monkeyx: You wont so don’t worry about it. Well...I have to go; I'll see you on Monday.
 xSpaz_monkeyx has signed off.
               Once I logged out of my aol account I turned off my lap top and put it back on my desk. I grabbed my stuff that I had gathered earlier and went to the bathroom. When I entered the bathroom I already started feeling relieved. I slowly got undressed and turned the water on in my shower. I waited until it got to the perfect temperature for me to get into and then I sulked my body with the comforting water. It was washing away my worry and my panic. Sure I had to put up with my dad for the rest of tonight and then --depending on my fathers mood-- some of Sunday until my grandmother came, but I've done it plenty of times before and I can do it again. I shampooed my hair, making sure that it was clean then rinsed it out. Next came the conditioner.  As always I did my routine, rinse out the conditioner, shave my legs, my arm pits, and washed my face. By the time I was done I could see the smog in the bathroom, so I turned the fan on. I wrapped my body up in a towel and started to brush my teeth. When I was done with that I blow dried my hair for the first time in maybe three years. I suppose I was avoiding something. I put on my snoopy pajamas, turned the fan off, put my towel up to dry and headed back to my room. I knew that once I walked into my room, there would be no leaving it until the next morning. I folded back the sheets to my bed and turned my I-Home onto a song that I felt like matched my mood. For some reason 'colors' by Cross fade appealed to me tonight. I stayed up having constant flash backs and thoughts. I eventually fell asleep. And dreamed of the last memory of my mother....
            It was raining and mother was running late from work. My dad had just finally cracked once she had walked through the door; it started out as a simple question from my dad.
 "Where have you been Diana?" And my mother responding with her soft calming voice, "I was stuck late at work, we're getting busy lately. I would have been home sooner but the traffic was unbearable." She shook off her coat and placed it on the rack.
 "You had me worried Diana." My mom walked up to my dad with a small smile on her face, and placing her hand on his cheek, not knowing of what would be coming next.
 "James, I'm ok. I'm home and nothing is wrong. Stop being a worry wart." And that’s when it happened. He hit her. It happened so fast that if you were to would have missed it. All you would be able to see was my mom on the floor.
"Don’t ever call me that. Do you here me?? You were sleeping around Diana, weren’t you?!" The blood was rushing to his head so fast I could have sworn he was a tomato.
 "No! I wasn’t. James what’s come over you?"
 "What? I'm not aloud to hit my wife?" She stood up and looked at him straight in the eyes.
"No, you can’t. I don’t want our seven year old daughter to be around such violence!" Then he hit her again. From what I could see she didn’t fight back, she just stood up again, and went to the bathroom. She cleaned up her wounds and put some makeup on her instant bruises. I decided that I should run to my room before my mom noticed my absence from it. Just a few short minutes later she was in my room, where I was awake...of course.
            "Caitlyn, you know I Love you right?"
"Yes mommy, I do." My mom was silently crying, and I couldn’t stand to see my mother cry even if she had every right in the world.
"Mommy, please don’t cry. It’s going to be okay." She let out a weak smile and some more tears.
"No Caitlyn, I don’t think it will be." She sniffled.
"I'll come back for you. I promise ok?"
"Will I see you in the morning?"
"I think I'll be gone by then sweetie, but don’t worry, nothing can keep you from me." I didn’t understand and I was so confused. I didn’t say anything after my mother said that to me, I just laid there, and eventually I fell asleep. The next morning my dad was bursting into my room screaming bloody murder.
"Where is she?!" I woke up with sleepy eyes.
 "hmmm...Who’s gone?"
 "Your mother god damnit!" I sat there in my bed stunned.


 Although I was only seven years old. I had figured it out without a problem, without any doubt in my young adolescent mind. My mom had left us. After that my dad made us move at least five times, trying to track her down, and making it impossible for her to ever find me like she said she would. So here I am, at 17...with no hope of my mother ever returning to find us or most
            I woke up in tears. You would think that after having this dream almost every night for the past ten years, that I would be use to it. Well you’re wrong. I haven’t gotten use to it one bit. The good thing about waking up though is that it was Sunday and it was also nine o' clock. My dad was gone --picking up my grandma from the airport would be my guess-- so I got up and went to the kitchen to make me some breakfast. I decided to make pancakes with maple syrup. It took about twenty minutes until I was done and eating my breakfast. When I was done eating and was starting to clean the dishes my father walked through the door with his hands full of bags, and luggage. It’s funny....if you were to look at my dad the way I saw him at this second, you could see a young man, who loved his daughter...but in truth, underneath all you could see, is the mask of a man that would be worth fearing. I quickly fell back to reality when my grandmother walked through the door asking "Where is my precious little Caitlyn?"
 "I'm right here grandma!" I said while drying off my hands. I ran to her and gave her the biggest hug I had ever given another person.
 "I've missed you so much grandma." I took in her scent and held on tighter.
"I've missed you to sweetie." That’s when my dad came in ruining the moment.
"Well, you'll be in the guest bedroom right next to Caitlyn mom." I just couldn’t understand how a sweet woman like Grandma Lane could give birth to such a scary human being known as my dad.
"Thank you James." My dad nodded his head in a 'your welcome' gesture and walked into the kitchen. "Now, Caitlyn you and I have-" "CAITLYN! What did you do in the kitchen?" Oh no...please, not with Grandma Lane here.
 "I...I made pancakes and I was cleaning the dishes when you and Grandma came into the house."
 "Well finish cleaning them now!" I started to walk to the kitchen when grandma Lane decided to grab my hand and speak up.
 "Now that’s nonsense James. I’m sure that Caitlyn does the dishes everyday. She started them, now you can finish." My dad was about to retaliate but then he realized that this was his mother, so he shut himself up and went to finishing up the dishes for me. I knew that I would get a beating in the basement either later on tonight...or when grandma Lane leaves.
"So like I was saying," Grandma Lane started to say, "You and I have a lot of catching up to do. Tell me how school is going." And from then on until around midnight grandma and I were talking. My dad went to bed around two hours earlier because he had to work the next day and that just made things that much better. There would be no beating tonight in the basement.

© 2010 Nichole Marie

Author's Note

Nichole Marie
say whatever

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Some gramatical errors but pretty good. You hvae my attention. Definanlty short but roughly goes over the basics of the story line. I shall continue reading

Posted 12 Years Ago

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Added on November 27, 2010
Last Updated on November 29, 2010
Tags: abuse, flashbacks, mother, grandma, father, isolated


Nichole Marie
Nichole Marie

Seattle, WA

My Name is Nichole I live in the Puget sound so it rains a hell of a lot, which is nice. Rain inspires me. I use to write a lot but for some reason I don't anymore, but I am currently working on a new.. more..