Child’s Eyes

I watched this video and it made me think of a different tale that inspired me to write a story earlier this year.

Domestic violence or intimate partner violence is far more complicated than just fist and bruises. The impact is deep and far-reaching. Listen to the video first, it’ll make your stomach ache.

“You can get your ass beat right here or we can go down to the basement and talk privately.”

Shane shoved her backwards, jabbing her hip into the counter. Before she could gather her wits, he trapped her between his body and the dishwasher.  Wrapping his fist in her hair, he pulled until he exposed her throat.

“Shane,” she whimpered.

The roots of her hair were on the verge of coming out of her scalp. Maggie squeezed her eyes shut, hoping when she opened them that the expression on his face had changed. He yanked harder and she cried out in pain as he pressed her back into the counter.

“Make up your fucking mind, Maggie.” His breath fanned across her face, hot like his bare chest pressing into hers.

“Dada.” Memphis played on the kitchen floor, her sweet voice questioning.

“Shane, please.” His hand went to her throat, cutting off her pleading.

The wild look in his eyes was all together too familiar and so totally foreign. It was his wildness that attracted her to him in the first place, but now she feared his rage.

A simple misunderstanding blossomed from an argument to Shane threatening her in minutes. Every attempt to reason with him seemed to enrage him further, his threats escalating to this unbelievable moment.

His hand tightened in increments until her vision darkened around the edges.

“Mama.” Maggie felt a small hand on her leg, but lacked the ability to warn her little girl away.  Tears welled up in her eyes as her baby moved back to her spot on the floor.

She didn’t want Memphis to see this, but knew the beating would be so much worse if they went downstairs. Either way, Maggie knew she’d feel the force of his fists on her body soon.


  1. Back when I was that kid’s age, we ddidn’t have 911. Back when my (former) stepfather would beat my mother with a pistol, club, his hand, etc. Our (my sibling and me) beatings were less severe in minor incremental degrees.

      1. I am beyond pain. It is all just bad memories for me. Justice most likely has been meted out and he ended up destitute and laying in a pool of his own blood somewhere. The running comment/question that his nephew has for me every time that we connect is how many years since anyone has heard from the guy. Judging by what I know about him, one of his “debtors” came and “collected.”

      1. My hurts are fine – no need for apologies. It is all just tucked away along with the other bad memories,now.

  2. Thank you for this post Cara. Reading that last line, I am torn with the mother, not knowing whether it’s best to stay put and not risk to be beaten too badly or go downstairs to protect her child’s soul, not being sure she will ever come back upstairs to protect her child’s body…
    This makes me feel awfully unwell. I don’t even have words to describe what I feel. I never experienced such abuse, either as a child or as an adult. I did experience other types of abuse, emotional and physical, but nothing that made me fear for my life.

      1. I would argue that what you say is true for any kind of abuse. They all leave invisible scars. The only difference is physical scars also leaves visible ones.
        Everyone can decide to break the cycle at one point or another. But it’s not always easy…

  3. I heard this the other day, and I sobbed – and it made my stomach hurt. Your post causes a very similar, visceral reaction. Well written – and sad that it’s a reality for so many.

  4. So sickening. We need to remember that when we have a chance to help, we must. Many years ago, my ex and I were bickering as we left Home Depot. We are at a stoplight leaving the parking lot and I see across the street a man roundhouse punch the young boy he was carrying. I start screaming, my ex jumped out of the car and begins chasing the guy. A vigilante group of men left their vehicles and chased that lousy asshole down and the end result was an arrest. The child had to be hospitalized. We have to act even though that’s the hardest thing to do sometimes. May Lisa and her family find safety and peace.

  5. Well, darlin, I will say this … you did a great job of capturing the moment. Speaking from experience, when a man is pulling your hair so hard it you can feel each an every follicle and they feel like they’re about to rip out of your scalp, you can’t squeeze your eyes shut without causing more pain. The instinctive reaction is to raise up on your toes to lesson the distance and you tend to grab his wrist. Anything to keep your hair in your head.

    And, sadly, yes, the beatings are always worse when the child is not in the room.

  6. Great post miss Cara. Abuse is abuse. Period. I was just over at Master Vile’s site yesterday commenting about the same thing. (

    Unfortunately there are unsuspecting submissives living with the reality you’ve so eloquently painted in this very brief negative encounter. If you are and this is you, take yourself (and your kids) to the nearest women’s shelter or police station and get out. That’s it. Get away. None of us want the abusive, domineering harm to come to you- if this you. Oh, BTW- the abuse doesn’t have to be physical either, mental is sometimes far longer lasting but either way, disrupting the cycle of abuse by getting out is the only way to protect yourself. Even with all of these words, there’s little any of us can do to help you- if this is you. You just have to leave, got it?

    Thank you for posting miss Cara…

    -Love Passionately-

    -Tom Wolf (Mynx’s Sir)

I like it when you talk to me

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s