My empty stomach rumbled, I was so looking forward to eating. Sadly the chances of eating that evening had now gone out of the window. We had at one moment been laughing and chatting away while waiting for the chicken to roast , when the pan of potatoes suddenly started to boil over the saucepan and within seconds he had like a volcano erupted.
“ Will you shut the fuck up” he had screamed. “ Look what you made me do, you cant do anything right”
I stood with my head to the floor, why could I not just learn to do things right, I was hopeless, useless and he was right, everything was my fault.
As far as he was now concerned the chicken dinner was ruined and we had to go without, again. To be honest there was nothing wrong with the potatoes, draining them and serving them would have been all it would have taken, but I could never suggest such a thing.
I had by now learned that when he was in one of his moods to just get out of the way as quickly and as quietly as I could. Staying around would only cause more trouble and I would only make him more angry.
“I am going to go and get a bath” I quietly told him. He didn’t even acknowledge me as I turned and walked away, as always with my eyes pointing to the floor. He had not given me permission to speak, so avoiding eye contact was in my best interests.
I sat on the toilet seat while the bath water was running, trying to take my socks off was quite a challenge with my growing belly. I was now 25 weeks pregnant with my first child. I poured in my favourite bubble bath and watched as the bubbles created a welcoming sight.
I sank into the deep warm water and breathed a deep sigh of relief, I was now able to at least for ten minutes have a moment to myself. Some time to lie and watch my unborn child happily kick away and make ripples in the water.
I jumped slightly when the light went off, it was pitch black. I had thought the electric meter had ran out yet again, but after a few moments it still had not come back on. I was about to shout out to him to put the key into the meter, when I heard the bathroom door slowly creak open.
I was still laid down and my hair floated on top of the water, I never felt him close to me until it was too late.
What was he doing, I struggled to comprehend what was happening until I felt the panic rise in the pit of my stomach as I realised I was starting to be run out of air. I was struggling with all my might to pull myself up but the sides of the bath were slippery and my hands could not grip onto anything. His force was so mighty, that there was no way I was going to win my fight for breath.
As my mind drifted off, I realised I was sat upright still in the bath tub gasping for air and clutching my chest. I sat shaking in the dark and then I heard the bathroom close gently.
I am not sure how long I sat there for shaking and wondering what had just taken place, or more to the point why he had just tried to drown me. I was heavily pregnant with his child? The water was now cold as I scrambled to my feet; I knew what awaited me on the other side of the door.
I had to think fast and the only option I had was to run, where to I no idea had as I had no friends, but I had to get out into the street.
I quickly dried myself with the towel and wearing only my dressing gown which luckily hung on the back of the bathroom door, I was ready to make my escape. I just had to open the door as quietly as I could and race down the stairs to where the front door was.
As I opened the door and took my first step the pain shot threw my foot like an erupting volcano. He had placed the chicken roasting tin still full of boiling hot water outside the bathroom door for me to step into.
I held my breath and darted as fast as I could, down the stairs and grabbed for the front door handle and it pulled right open. I stood in the middle of the street.
Thankfully the village was quiet and I just ran, I had no idea into which way to run, but I grabbed hold of my pregnant stomach to offer it some support and ran for my life. If he was chasing me I will never know, as I never looked back, not once. The cold wet pavement made the bare soles of feet hurt but I made it to the end of the village in no time at all.
I saw a row of houses and remembered a so called old friend lived there so without thinking I knocked on her door.
Of course seeing me stood wearing only a dressing gown with no shoes upon my feet and my hair dripping wet and wearing a sheer look of horror on my face, I must have taken her by surprise. I spent the night on her sofa. She gave me some clothing the next morning, I waited until I knew he would be at work and off I went back home. Thankfully his car was not parked outside, so I felt safe enough to go inside.
My legs ached for days after that night and my left foot was burnt badly. Within days my adventure of escaping to this so called friend’s house became a laughing stock to the other friends of this girl and I became the joke of the village.
He came home from work and ate his tea and watched the TV and acted as normal as any other couple would. Maybe he was sorry for what he had done. Best thing I could was to just forget about it ever happening.
The stares and whispering carried on for a few weeks and I felt ashamed when I left the house but within time they found someone else to talk about and I carried on with my daily life as best I could.