Dearly Beloved

I didn’t know this man. Was he really the man I married? The man who decorated my locker for my birthday in high school? The man who surprised me with a bouquet of red roses at work? The man who proposed to me as we watched the sun set over the mountains? The man who promised to give me everything I dreamt of, the loving home I desperately craved?

No.

I knew the man I married. I loved him even. I gave up everything just to be with him. It wasn’t hard to leave my parents. I had given up my hopes of being a real family long ago. So when I met Caleb, I thought my fortune had finally changed. It was love at first sight, or so I thought. After a year of dating our senior year of high school, we were married. We started a family. Liam was born, and my heart overflowed with love for our son. My dreams had come true, everything was right in my world. But the man who leered over me now, this man was someone else entirely.

Caleb stood in the open doorway, the icy breeze slithering in behind him, sinking its teeth into my bare, white arms. Goosebumps crept up my stiff limbs. I hadn’t seen him in three days. Where he went, I didn’t know, nor did I ask. I was relieved by his absence. The memory of what he’d done still haunted me; The black and blue bruises still ached. So when he started coming home later and later, even disappearing for days at a time, I didn’t ask any questions. Even though he often said he was working late, I knew better than to believe him. But today was different.

He lingered in the doorway, his broad form trimmed in midnight back, his face obscured in darkness. His shadow reached across the wooden floorboards, grasping at my ancles. He slammed the door suddenly, storming towards me. He yanked me like a doll to face his savage, bloodshot eyes. I blinked and shrank back as the alcohol on his hot breath coated my throat, my lungs. Rotten dread sept into my hollow bones.

“Caleb- you’re home”

“Not like you care”

I recoiled at his malicious tone, clenching my trembling hands into fists. He still held my arm, fastening me to him like an iron chain. My nails dug into my palms. I challenged his menacing glare, summoning my courage.

“I made dinner for Liam and me. There are leftovers in the fridge”

His jagged nails suddenly dug deeper into my arm. Fiery pain burned up my arm, and I cried out.

“Caleb- please, you’re hurting me”

“Whatever”

He shoved me aside, and I grasped the wall behind me for support as he stumbled into the kitchen. I followed quickly behind. He opened the fridge and grabbed a glass of liquor, taking a swig. He slammed it down on the counter, rubbing his face in his hands, messing his dirty-blonde hair. Liam was sitting in his highchair where I left him, his head a mass of bouncing curls. “Dada!” he exclaimed. He was happily shoving food into his chubby cheeks, his two-year-old mind completely oblivious to the tension around him. I stood by his chair, warily watching my husband. What was wrong with him lately? He’s so drunk, he can barely walk.

He began mumbling curses to himself under his breathe, breathing heavily. He suddenly roared with white-hot rage, slamming his fists into the fridge, kicking the kitchen cabinets, screaming,

“They can’t do this to me! They can’t do this!”

Before I could even think, the liquor bottle was flying, shattering against the wall mere inches from Liam’s head. Liam and I stared at each other in shock. He burst into tears, his little body convulsing in sobs. White noise rang in my ears as fear strangled the breath from my lungs. I turned to Caleb, who was seething, devouring me with his eyes. I felt frozen in terror, my head pounded and spun. Black mascara tears streaked down my pale cheeks, strands of my curly black hair sticking to my bloodless lips. Liam wasn’t safe. Liam wasn’t safe.

“They fired me!” He announced, waiting for my reaction.

His confession dangled in the air between us for a few moments. My mind couldn’t form any reply. I was numb.

“Don’t you understand? It’s over! It’s all over!”

That’s when I noticed the stains on Caleb’s shirt. Red stains.

“Shut that kid up!”, he pointed to Liam, “Shut. It. Up!”

He staggered forward toward Liam. My legs instinctively moved as I stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

“Please- if you want to hurt someone, hurt me. Just leave Liam out of it.”

He grabbed me by my hair, yanking me towards the living room. I sent my elbow back, driving it into his face. He growled, clutching his eye. I took the extra moments to scoop Liam up into my arms, shielding him from the monster before us.

“I’m going to kill you!”

His words drew me to a halt. My heart dropped into my stomach. But then my instincts kicked in. I wouldn’t let him hurt Liam. One word rang in my mind: Escape.

I lurched for the foyer, sprinting down the dark, narrow hall. My bare feet skid across the floor as I heard Caleb stumble after me. There- the bathroom. I threw open the door, slamming it shut behind me before turning the lock. I pressed my back against the thin door, hugging my son to my chest. His sobs filled the small bathroom. Caleb’s fists pounded against my back, his screams reverberating throughout my brain, but I blocked him out as I closed my eyes. I stroked my son’s hair, pressing him into my shoulder. I had to get us out of here.

We huddled together on the bathroom floor, soaking in the comfort of each other’s presence. Liam snuggled into my lap.

“Dada?” he whispered with big, questioning eyes.

I shushed him, stroking his back as I hummed his favorite lullaby. His whimpers finally ceased; he had fallen asleep. Caleb continued his rampage throughout the house, and I listened as he destroyed our once beautiful, loving home. A home that was a place of safety, a place of shelter from the outside world. Now it was my own personal hell; my sole purpose was to escape, to save my son from this horror. I didn’t know what caused my husband to snap. Why was there blood on his shirt? Why was he fired? Why did he want to kill us? All these questions hounded my thoughts, but I forced myself back into the present. It didn’t matter now. There was no going back; once I got out of this house with Liam, we were never coming back.

I listened as my world was torn apart around me. Caleb went through every room, destruction in his wake. It was a wonder he didn’t break down the bathroom door. I sent up a silent prayer of thanks to God for that one blessing. Time passed, and the house went quiet. Had he left? Was he asleep? Or was he lying in wait outside the door, ready to pounce as soon as I unlock the door? I listened carefully for any slight rustle outside the door. Nothing. I lifted Liam to my chest, delicate not to rouse him. I knelt with my ear to the door, waiting for minutes that felt like hours. There- I heard him snoring. Now was my chance.

I turned the doorknob slowly, listening carefully for any movement. I inched the door open, peeking around the corner. Caleb was nowhere in sight. I opened the door fully, taking a hesitant step forward. All was silent, the hallway dark. I waited for my eyes to accustom themselves to the darkness and took another step forward. The floorboard creaked; I froze. I heard him then- snoring coming from the living room. He was a light sleeper, so I knew I had to be as silent as possible. I wondered, since he was probably wasted, whether he was knocked out until morning. This thought comforted me as I continued down the shadowy hall. I could see part of the living area; clutter littered the ground. A vase had been smashed; a broken window let in the chill night air. I could hear the trees rustle, their whispers carrying through the open window. The sheer white curtains billowed with the swift breeze. A shiver went down my spine. I passed a hole he had punched through the wall. Was that our family Christmas picture broken on the floor? What had he done to our home, our family?

When I reached the end of the hall, I spotted Caleb sprawled across the couch, deep in slumber. The sight of him sent terror coursing through my veins. My soul seemed to step from my body, floating above me, watching as I crept towards his limp form. None of this seemed real; It couldn’t be. My hand reached out to touch him, to let him know I still cared, to bridge the chasm between us. I suddenly woke from my trace-like state, snatching my hand back. I still loved him; I couldn’t stop loving him. There was nothing he could do to change that fact. The only real happy moments of my life were with Caleb; he was my home. People who have a home don’t understand what it’s like to find your home in someone else, to find your safety in another person. I knew in my gut that I would stay, I would fight for our marriage even if Caleb killed me. There was only one thing stopping me: Liam. I would never risk his safety. I would choose Liam over my husband. Liam was innocent of all this; he deserved to live a full and beautiful life. With fresh determination, I headed straight for the door. I didn’t turn back.

I didn’t bother to grab my shoes or any belongings as I walked down the driveway. There was no time; I couldn’t waste any more precious seconds. The frigid January air pierced under my skin, slicing through my thin pajamas. I glanced at the Caleb’s grey pick up, wishing I could steal his car. I had seen his keys bulging in his jeans pocket, so that hope was fruitless. I would have to walk. Maybe if we had service out here, I could have called 911. Our log cabin home was somewhat remote, about forty-five minutes from town. If I made it to the main road, I could hopefully flag down a passing vehicle. I had to rely on myself; no help was coming.

I had finally reached the main road. A fog had settled over the valley, its veil of mist concealed what lie ahead. I felt like a lost spirit, floating in an endless abyss of pain and sorrow. I was nothing more than a nomad, a lonely ghost, wandering down the deserted street. Liam stirred in my arms.

“Mama- where going?” he mumbled dreamily.

“I don’t know,” I replied, more to myself than to him.

I don’t know if minutes or hours passed when the headlights shone through the mist behind us. I turned to wave the car down, but upon it drawing near, I realized what it was: a grey pick up. I didn’t think, I just ran. My feet thundered through the tall grass, heading for the tree line. I felt brambles snare my bare, white legs, felt the blood ooze down my calf; I didn’t stop running. Branches reached their gnarled hands to grab me, to whisk me back to my captor, to my certain death. They slashed my face, my arms, but I didn’t feel the pain. Their faces snarled at me; their teeth bared to attack. Fresh tears poured from my eyes. I ran and ran until my legs gave out beneath me. I collapsed to my knees.

Liam and I cried together in the barren wood, our bonded spirits reaching out for each other. I knew then that I wasn’t alone, that I’d never truly be alone. The bond between mother and son is something I cannot explain. I knew that as long as he stayed in my arms, my heart would keep hope alive. Hope for his future, not mine. Mine was already lost.

I was too exhausted to continue. My body was worn, my heart was broken. I had no sense of time, my mind drifted in and out of reality. The bitter wind slid into my brain, the recesses of my mind drawing me into an eternal sleep. I held Liam close, and he began to realize that something wasn’t right in his world.

“Mama- up! We go home.”

He peered up into my face with worried eyes. His lips were chapped and blue. We both shook with cold. I couldn’t feel my hands or feet. My heart wrenched with guilt. I wished he didn’t have to suffer like me.

“You know I love you, right?”

“Ya”

“I need to rest now, ok? I’m tired”

“Ok”

We laid down together in the frozen brush. I placed my battered body almost fully over his, sheltering him from the cold. I brushed my cheek against his, placing a delicate kiss on his forehead. I wrapped him in my arms, hugging him as close as I could to my aching heart. I didn’t want to let him go. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

I had given everything. I was torn in two. I was raw. There was nothing left of me here. My restless spirit desired freedom. I sighed, lifting my heavy lids in search of a creator. I prayed to Him now for mercy, for forgiveness.

“Please- save my son”

My last breath escaped me. I felt warm, like the sun was pouring into my innermost being. So incredibly warm. I opened my eyes, and you won’t believe what I saw! Blue skies; crystal sand; gentle waves. He was walking towards me, the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. Powerful; divine; glorious. He welcomed me into his loving embrace.

~

“Here lies Marie Wilson, mother of Liam Wilson. 1987-2008. Dearly Beloved.”

Liam read the inscription on the tombstone, red roses in hand. He gazed down at his mother’s grave; It was her 35th birthday. His curly black hair fell loose over his forehead. He knelt by the grave, placing flower after flower over his mother’s resting place. A tear slid from his eye, disappearing into the dirt. He smiled.

“I’m back mom. Happy Birthday.”

He didn’t remember anything from the night she died. All he knew was what his social worker told him: his father had been fired from his job as a corrections officer because of his illegal dealings with prisoners. He had murdered his supervisor, fleeing from the facility. No one knew exactly what happened the night he returned home. He was told that his mom had escaped on foot with him, that Caleb had destroyed their home. She got lost in the woods, dying of hypothermia overnight. Miraculously, a hunter had been in the forest the next morning and found him sitting next to his mother’s body, waiting for her to wake up. Once his identity was discovered, he was thrown into foster care. His dad was charged with first degree murder, and his sentence was life in prison. Liam knew the only reason he survived that night was because his mother had used her own body heat to keep him alive.

He lay down over her grave as he told her what had come to pass in the last year of his life. He peered up into the cloudy Autumn sky, watching flickers of red and orange fade into the endless sea of leaves. He told his mom he was happy, and he meant it. He looked over at the other tombstones, wondering which stories were kept alive and which had been forgotten. Every one of these tombstones contained a story, but some would never be unearthed. Their voices were buried with them in their shallow graves, forever silenced. This realization struck him, and he grieved that day for every lost story, mourning the unlived life.