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I always thought my life would have more meaning, that I would be a part of something great. I believed so much in myself up until when I met Gregory. I remember so clearly the day we met, I was heading home after a day of shopping with my cousin who was visiting form the States. We had visited almost every shop on Fredrick Street buying what we could afford, “You all not easy nah,” I would hear my brother subtle hints of frustration as he followed behind “gone and buy out the whole of Port-of-Spain.”
After a long day we were, naturally exhausted and decided to “Take ah five!” on the promenade. That was when I saw him, a tall lanky young man, he had a fantastic smile and seemed to just flow with the symphony of a beautiful day, our eyes met after the better half of probably what was almost three minutes of just blatant staring. Smiling he walked over and introduced himself “Hi, I’m Gregory Smith. I work for concepts international and we are doing a survey.” his voice was so professional, it sounded like the voice of and angel of comfort. He captured me from the start.
Gregory was almost what every woman wanted in a guy. He was handsome, well-spoken and he had an honest job. He lived by himself on the outskirts of Arima. The first time I walked into his apartment, I was blown away. The interior decorating was out of this world and I thought to myself “I ketch dis one.” He was so kind to me at first he would take me out, buy me flowers come and pick me up from school. “That is some real Soap opera scene dread.” Felicia my best friend would always say.
After we were dating for almost six months I found out I was pregnant and this was something I didn’t plan for. My decision was made from the start, “I not having no child for no man, if he aint going an’ put ah ring on meh finga !” I always told Felicia this and everyone knew my stance on the issue. How was I going to explain this. I made up my mind and told Gregory that I wanted to terminate the pregnancy and that was the beginning of my woes.
By then I had moved in with him, this I would come to realize was a mistake too. After the news Gregory changed. I saw more frowns than smiles, I heard more angry words thrown at me than love. He would call me good for nothing and made me do things I didn’t want to do. I had no choice. When mummy and daddy heard I was pregnant they asked me not to bother to come home. Gregory’s ill-treatment towards me became worse with time. For the first time he hit me right across the face because I said I was leaving him. He told me I had no where to go and he made sure of that, spreading rumors about me and caused my relationship with my childhood best friend Felicia to grind to a halt.
The hitting became beatings almost every day. Even though I was pregnant, he did not care. He said, "If you not behaving like some stupedee I ent go hit you so." I hated hearing that. Stupedee! That’s what he called me now.
I had my daughter and I thought it would help us but it didn't. It just meant that I was stuck with him. The black eyes and busted lips and bruised body was all I knew and he was taking my heart too. I was forbidden to have friends or should I say a life?
Two years later I became pregnant and I was not at all happy with that. But of course I had to stay pregnant. It cooled him down a little and he always said he was sorry. I hated my life and I wanted it to end but I had children whom I loved and I couldn't leave them. That is what keeps me alive. I tried to get help from my dad but he said “That’s your business. You want man, now you got one! Deal with it.” That hurt so much because I thought daddies were there to help when you needed them most.
My father was angry with me because I had children and he said it was my fault I put myself in that type of position. My mom couldn't even help me she could barely take care of herself. So as my pregnancy progressed he was a little nicer to me- we had twins now. That was the worse news to me. I kept thinking, how am I going to leave with four kids?
I paid for a tubal ligation so I couldn't have any more children with him. I started saving a dollar here and a dollar there so I could escape my hell with my children. I remember one day that I told him I hated him with every bone in my body. He hit me so hard I went flying at least ten feet across the bed and onto the floor. Blood dripping from my mouth, I just smiled and said, "Are you done?" I was so tired of him hitting me and controlling me as a person that I had had enough!
He started hitting me some more and I didn't back down. He finally walked away. The days went by and I would get hit because I didn't vacuum first then dust. The house was not clean enough or there was a fork in the sink I would get slapped again. He made excuses to hit me. So I bided my time till I could leave.
A few years later I was going to be gone within a few months then I found out I was pregnant again. I was floored because I paid to be fixed. Well I was that 1% that could get pregnant. So I stayed until my last child was one and a half and I packed my things and left.
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Writer Profile
Samuel
I'm 26 years old.
And this is my creed.
My voice is a tool in destiny's toolbox.
My words are the ammo of providence's slingshot.
My thoughts are the paths in fate's journey,
My intentions projections of success divine.
I write because I choose to speak
of the things the cause the world to spin.
I write because I can
and i believe my words will someday make an impact.
I'm not an agent of change as some many conclude or think.
I'm just the wind that blows and spreads the forest fire.
Join me and together we can walk to destiny's dream.
Love to all
I'm not a poet
I'm just me
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