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Escalation true life story



The small compound like villa where this story took place

I quickly wiped bits of sauce and broccoli from the marble floor, scrubbing away reminders from the day before. A trail of crust lay strewn in what appeared to be a pattern, tiny ants marked the trajectory and angle where the incident had occurred. Sponges and towels soaked in warm soapy water washed away a favorite meal but could not obliterate the stain of shame and humiliation. I worked in a swift but guarded fashion, hoping to finish before he resurfaced from his basement enclave to dissect and lay blame for what had transpired the day before. The kids remained in their rooms, uninterested in leaving except to eat and use the bathroom. I monitored the villa, patrolling the halls and rooms in an attempt to contain and isolate the rage.

The sound of his clicking ship ships (sandals) on the staircase startled me and sent the customary wave of panic through my boggled mind. I struggled to stand and straighten my back, shuffling into the kitchen to avoid any further discussion. As he rounded the corner I lowered my gaze hoping to fade back to the invisible fixture I had now become. He continued through the hall and out the large metal door. A small and momentary reprieve.  I stood in the kitchen scanning the room for any remnants that had been missed, hoping that wiping it away would erase what had happened. Foof entered the room and asked the usual question, “Is he gone?” I was too ashamed to look at her, but nodded a quick yes. In a household where the word Geez, shoot and darn were seen as profanity and any waste no matter how small was an unforgivable sin, the incident and escalation loomed heavy over the villa.

His plate slammed down hard on the table repeatedly, punctuated and in sync with his words.   The children stood wide eyed as his rant escalated and ended with chicken pot pie being thrown to the floor, his plate, fork and food scattered throughout the room.  He paced and marched, ranting, pounding and screaming. I rushed to shut windows, to explain and utter useless words and excuses. The rant ended with a warning, to never use the computer on this table. “Move this F***ING computer, if I ever see it here again I  will break it into a million F***ING pieces, do you hear me, a million F***ING pieces.”


177 Comments Post a comment
  1. Hi Lynn
    I’m Divya…happened to stumble across your blog …my heart goes out to you & im very glad you’re safe now.
    Your writing is powerful and you have a way with words! Eager to explore more of your blog!

    Liked by 1 person

    June 30, 2016
  2. This actually made me terrified for you. You are a brilliant writer and you make the reader feel your emotions as if we are living it with you.

    Liked by 2 people

    June 30, 2016
  3. Lynn…I feel like I say the same thing over and over but you are so brave. And you were the perfect mother to your children. Always there to protect them.

    Liked by 1 person

    July 1, 2016
    • Thanks so very much that is so kind of you to say! It means allot to hear that because I carry so much guilt! xxxx


      July 1, 2016
  4. You describe the tight fear of caged rage so well!

    Liked by 1 person

    July 1, 2016
  5. Thanks Lynn. I hope you are saving all these chapters for a book.

    Liked by 1 person

    July 1, 2016
  6. You are a wonderfully talented writer, I swear I get mad every time I read about what he’s done to you and your family. Wasting food was forbidden except for the abuser who can fly into a rage over the smallest of things? My heart is racing right now…smh

    Liked by 1 person

    July 2, 2016
  7. My heart sank with the first paragraph. I am not a psychologist, but it really sounds like he has borderline personality disorder. Such a terrible way to live. My heart aches for what you and your children went through. xx

    Liked by 1 person

    July 3, 2016
  8. 😦

    Liked by 1 person

    July 16, 2016
  9. I am so sorry that this happened. You are an amazing writer though!

    Liked by 1 person

    November 3, 2016
  10. WOW! He can swear like a truck driver but not anyone else. Thing only thing good in this story is it was dinner he ruined. Hopefully he went to bed hungry for his swearing, and the kids and you got to eat before all that terror.

    Liked by 1 person

    January 4, 2017
    • It was unreal Deborah! We were not allowed pictures,music, decorations in the house and t.v. was monitored. Friends were frowned upon and life was basically on his terms, so when he started swearing it was bizarre and scary!

      Liked by 1 person

      January 4, 2017

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