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    Born on a Dirt Road
    Born on a Dirt Road
    Born on a Dirt Road
    Ebook80 pages1 hour

    Born on a Dirt Road

    By Judith Laine

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    FROM A 20 YEAR OLD VIRGIN TO A 30 YEAR OLD BATTERED WOMAN IN 9 SHORT YEARS. HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN TO ME? IT ALL STARTED OUT SO INNOCENTLY. I ATTENDED A CONVENTION THAT MY BOSS ASKED ME TO ATTEND IN SAVANNAH BEACH, GEORGIA. THIS STARTED THE WHIRLWIND SEDUCTION THAT WOULD CHANGE ME FROM SWEET INNOCENT SOUTHERN BELL TO AN ANGRY WOMAN THAT HATED MOST ALL MEN. EVERY TIME I WOULD SEE HIM AGAIN I WOULD GET NERVOUS AND SICK. IS HE GOING TO HIT ME AGAIN OR JUST CALL ME UGLY NAMES? HE TOOK MY YOUT

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherPage Publishing, Inc.
    Release dateNov 13, 2020
    ISBN9781634179492
    Born on a Dirt Road

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      Book preview

      Born on a Dirt Road - Judith Laine

      Born On A

      Dirt Road

      Judith Laine

      Copyright © 2015 Judith Laine

      All rights reserved

      First Edition

      PAGE PUBLISHING, INC.

      New York, NY

      First originally published by Page Publishing, Inc. 2015

      ISBN 978-1-63417-948-5 (pbk)

      ISBN 978-1-63417-949-2 (digital)

      Printed in the United States of America

      Even when he hit me so hard and knocked me down, I thanked God that I had the strength to get back up again and stand on my own two legs. I knew I was a strong woman even though I only stood 5’2 and I weighed 95 lbs. soaking wet, and he was 210 lbs. at 6’1. My mother had always taught me to stand up for myself, and so I did. She also taught me to be a lady, a hard worker—and she just taught me to live by the golden rule, and do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

      Not since Ike and Tina Turner has there been such a relationship as ours. Of course, I have to be honest and I never suffered to the extent that Tina suffered, but just watching the movie about she and Ike brought back a lot of bad memories about how hard it was to hide the fact that he treated me that way. I used to wear scarves to work to hide the bruises and the choke marks and wore sunglasses at night to keep people from seeing my eyes sometimes badly bruised. It was my first marriage and I wanted it to work so badly. I did not want my daughter not to have a dad, so I stayed and stayed until I couldn’t take it anymore. No one should have to live like that. Afraid all the time that he would come home drinking and take out his bad day at work on me. Every time he got angry about anything, his bad temper would end up on my pretty face, and as I learned after I left him, it was a pretty face and not an ugly face as he told me it was. I would dread going to work sometimes with bruises on my neck, arms, legs, etc., and I would wear sun glasses so that no one could see my swollen eyes from crying or the bruises that were left after he tried to choke me.

      Why would I stay with a man that treated me this way? The reason I will never know but I wanted us to remain a family and keep the family together. I wanted my daughter to have a dad but it was evident that we wanted different things. I wanted the American dream, a house on the outside of the city of Atlanta, and with a white picket fence and flowers, lots and lots of flowers with a small home that I could decorate and make it look gorgeous and I wanted more children. I always loved children. They are the sweetest and the only innocent thing left in this mixed up world that we live in.

      But he wanted no more children, and he wanted apartment living because he did not want to feel tied down to anyone or anything. So we lived in apartments for the nine years we were married. I was always looking and trying to figure out how I could buy a house on my own.

      It’s hard to explain to people because they always say the same thing. Why didn’t you just leave? But it’s not that easy when you have a child and you have no money and no place to go. I called the police on several occasions and they could not do anything for me. They were useless. They told me to call back in twenty-four hours if I was still angry. Well, in twenty-four hours I would be back at work and not thinking about calling the police. And if I did call the police and they arrested him, I knew I would be the one to have to come up with the money to get him out of jail, and if I didn’t get him out, he would lose his job and that would affect me and the baby more than anyone else.

      So time goes by and you always think things will get better and that he will change and go

      back to being the sweet guy he was when we married. The day afterward he was always so, so

      sorry and would beg me not to leave, that he was going to do better, not drink so much, and he

      promised to never do that again, and you get to the point where you start to believe him. Only

      because you want to. You want your marriage to work, you do not want your parents to think

      you have failed, and you want your daughter to have a daddy. People that do not have children could never understand how it is. She would cry for her daddy at night and think that I was to blame because she said, Daddy leaves because you ask too many questions and fight with him, and Daddy says that you are a nag.

      Whatever the hell that means. When a husband takes twelve hours to drive home from work, any wife would ask what happened. Why are you so late? And when he arrives he is not tired, he has had a shower and is all fresh and me I looked awful, after waiting up on him to come home and I had to go to work. He would waltz in like nothing happened smelling like men’s after shave and with a new silk shirt on that somebody bought him because he certainly never had any money.

      So another day goes by and things are good and he is good and nice and begs for forgiveness so you try to forget about all the anger that he had for you before. The anger that always ends up on my face anyway because, when he got mad, the first thing he wanted to do was to strike me and make me cry. Then he call me cry baby and say, Why don’t you call your mommy and daddy?

      Then days, months go by and he is working almost every day, being really nice and you think what a nice marriage this could be if he would just straighten up and fly right. And then when you are least expect it, he comes home drinking and everything goes from a fairy tale dream to shit. In just a few minutes, everything changes and he is chasing me around the apartment again and trying to hurt me. Sometime when he drank he wanted me to be his lover and sometimes when he drank he wanted to be a fighter. You just never know and when you are living with an alcoholic everything changes really quickly.

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