Chapter Eighteen

My second trimester came and went. The baby would be here in a few short weeks. I checked the paper frequently for information on Matthew. It looked as if the press had covered up my absence with an extravagant lie about me needing to return home to take care of my sickly aunt. I knew he was still searching for me and it was that thought gave me anxiety about leaving the shelter. I did my dishes in silence that morning wondering what the next chapter in life would hold.

Life at the shelter was great. I felt safe there. I did all of my required assignments and therapy. Art therapy was a particular favorite of mine. I painted abstract pictures of home. The outside world would see the paintings and not make the connection, but I could look at them at be reminded of my loved ones I couldn't make contact with yet. I still received regular e-mails from home but I didn't feel it was safe to respond yet. One afternoon, I got a call from Cassie asking me to meet her at a local diner for dinner. I agreed begrudgingly. Cassie was on a kick about me making a decision about the baby. I had two choices at this point. I could parent, or I could place my baby for adoption. The pros and cons of both weighed heavily on my heart.

I met Cassie that night outside of the diner. She looked excited and I knew she was up to something when she asked me to hear her out before I made a decision. Cassie started by telling me she would support whatever decision I made, and I truly believed she met that, but she needed me to understand my options. Cassie had also invited a couple who was looking to adopt. She wanted me to talk to them and ask questions about the adoption process. I couldn't make a decision if I wasn't informed so I agreed to go in and meet them.

Cassie put her and on my shoulder. "Whatever decision you make will be tough," she said with a smile, "but you are strong enough to handle it." I took a deep breath and thanked her.

Cassie and I walked inside. The couple waved to us from across the diner. They looked pleasant enough. I shook their hands and introduced myself. The wife told me her name was Jennifer and I almost thew up in my mouth when the husband introduced himself as Matthew. Still, I sat down and decided to hear them out. We talked for hours. The couple had been trying for years to have children. I fell in love with Jennifer and Matthew during the short time we spent together. I felt an instant connection with Jennifer. She was kind, patient, and had the touch of a mother. I felt her loss when she spoke about their infertility. These two were amazing people, and more importantly, they were ready to be parents. I thought of all the things they would be able to give my child that I wouldn't be able to. Emotional and financial stability, a great home environment, and a strong foundation. I was sad when our time together had ended and we went our separate ways.

Cassie and I stayed outside after dinner to talk for a while. "Now, there is no pressure Lily, but here is their portfolio so you can read a little more about them," she said as she handed me over the envelope. I was relived at the fact that I still had a little bit of time to make my decision. I went that home that night and poured over the information. The baby kept kicking as if he or she was trying to send me a message. Jennifer and I had so much in common. I really felt like I had gotten to know them. I loved this couple and that made my decision even harder. 

Unfortunately, I had a lot less time then I thought I did. My water broke at the shelter about a month after I met Matthew and Jennifer. During that month, I kept in touch with Jennifer through e-mail but I still hadn't made my decision when the contractions started. I called Cassie and took a cab to the hospital. Cassie met me there.

My baby was born that night. She was a girl and she was the most beautiful baby I had ever laid eyes on. I held her and cried. She was so tiny and so perfect. I stayed at the hospital for a few days with baby girl before we were discharged. Cassie came to the hospital to pick me up. The moment I laid eyes on my perfect baby girl I knew what I was going to do. I had already called Cassie the night before to inform her that I had made my decision.

I got back to the shelter and held baby girl in my arms. I fed her a bottle and looked lovingly into her big, beautiful eyes.

I snuggled her tightly as tears ran down my face. "You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I love you with all my heart. Please, never forget that," I whispered in her ear. Just then, I heard a knock on the door. I wiped my tears and went to greet Matthew and Jennifer.

With one last snuggle, I passed baby girl into Jennifer's waiting arms. All three of us were hurting for each other in that moment, each feeling the other's losses and gains that day. I didn't think it was possible to be so happy and so sad at the same time. Matthew reassured me we would be in touch and that I would get letters and pictures in the mail.

I knew I was making the right decision. Matthew and Jennifer were prepared to become parents. Could I have done it on my own? Absolutely. It wasn't about whether I could or couldn't, it was about what was right for me. This felt right.

Jennifer told me how grateful she was for me. All she ever wanted in this life was to be a mother. She told me I was making her dreams come true. I knew she would be a fantastic mother. I loved my child more than anything else in the world and I asked Jennifer to tell her that often. "I promise she will know how much you love her," Jennifer assured me. "Have you thought of a name?" I asked her. "Yes. We were thinking Leah," she tried to read my face, "I hope you like it." I looked at Leah. Her perfect little face, her large round eyes, and her pouty lips. "She looks like a Leah," I said looking up and Jennifer and smiling.

The sun went down and the lights came on in the garage. Jennifer squeezed my hand, a silent promise that everything would be okay. "Thank you," she whispered, her eyes filled with tears. Matthew went outside to start the car and Jennifer and I stood in silence, staring at our perfect little Leah.

Chapter Seventeen

I spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the shelter. I thought about venturing out but I was struck down with fear at the very thought. I tried to imagine what Matthew was doing right now. Was he worried? Was he angry? I thought about calling him to let him know I was okay but I was too scared he would trace my call and find me. I finally met my caseworker, Cassie, later on that evening. She was older than me but pretty, and she had a bubbly, positive personality. I trusted her immediately. 

I told her a little bit about myself and gave her a vague background story. Cassie was very understanding and supportive. "One of the things we stress here is resuming a normal life," she explained to me. "You will probably want to stay inside and recover for a few days but eventually you are going to have to get back out there. The goal is rehabilitation so you can be independent again," Cassie said. I listened to her talk about the classes and support groups I would have to attend and what the shelter required from me. I had to find a job and show some signs of progress in order for me to be able to stay. 

Cassie finished her speech and asked if I had any questions. I told her I didn't but she could sense my hesitation. I had to get it off my chest. I told her I was expecting. She smiled, but when my excitement did not match hers, she toned it down. She rubbed my belly. "Have you thought about what you are going to do yet?" she asked. I shook my head. "I'll bring you some pamphlets this week," she told me. "You look like you could use some relaxation. Let's go find the other girls and I'll show you the recreation room."

Cassie introduced me to some of the other girls and we sat around the television the rest of the night and played video games. I laughed and the sound of my own voice surprised me. It had been so long since I laughed I had forgotten what it felt like. I had fun for the first time in ages. I finally felt like I was home.

I took what Cassie said about making progress very seriously. I didn't want to be a helpless, victim anymore. I stayed at the shelter for a week before I decided I was going to go out. I started small. One morning, I just walked down the street to the library. It was a terrifying experience but I was proud of myself for doing it. I stayed all afternoon reading books on pregnancy and parenting. I came across a book about adoption. I have never given adoption much thought before but the book was very informative and helpful. I flipped through it twice before deciding to go check my e-mail.

As always, there were updates from Nancy and Kylie. I thought about e-mailing them back but I wasn't sure if it was safe yet. The e-mails didn't mention anything about Matthew and I didn't suspect they would. I knew Matthew would only hurt them to get to me, so if I wasn't in contact with them I shouldn't have to worry. 

I finally decided to head back to the shelter. I did sort of a half-walk/half-run because I was still terrified of being noticed. Cassie was waiting for me when I got back. She told me how proud she was of me for all the progress I had been making lately. I attended every meeting and support group and took her advice very seriously. Cassie wanted to talk to me about my employable skills. In high school I waitressed at a diner but that was the only job experience I ever had and I told her so. Cassie thought for a moment. "Do you have any hobbies that could be used to make money?" she asked. I started to tell her no when a light bulb went off in my head. "Mixology!" I told her excitedly. "It's always been a hobby of mine and I think I'm really good! I had a job lined up before..." I trailed off. Cassie smiled at me comfortingly. "I think you know what your next step is," she said. 

It was about a month before I worked up the courage to apply for a mixology position at Waylon's Haunt. I was interviewed by Daisy under my new alias, Lily. I was so scared she would recognize me, but if she did, she never let on. I had another on the job interview and I nailed it. I started work the very next afternoon and made 53 simoleons. It may not sound like much but it was all mine and I had earned every penny.

My first trimester was ending and I still had no idea what I was going to do about the baby. A shelter was not an appropriate place to raise a child. I distracted myself with my work. I was a hard worker and showed a lot of potential my first two weeks. I was quickly promoted to night shift so I started making a little extra money. I kept very busy to avoid thinking about my pregnancy, but deep down I knew I would have to face the issue eventually.

Chapter Sixteen

I ran as fast as my legs could carry me. I was petrified Matthew was going to pull up behind me and drag me back. I felt faint every time I heard a car approach. I made it across the bridge and was able to find cover in the bustling nightlife of the city.

I walked until 1:00 am and I realized I was too tired to go any further. I found a little park close to the edge of the water and decided to rest on a bench for a while. I ended up drifting off to sleep. I dreamt Matthew found me. I awoke with a jolt several hours later. I was cold and starving. Judging by where the moon was in the sky, I guessed it was about 3:00 am. I pulled my coat tighter and began heading towards the shelter.

I arrived at the shelter a little over an hour later. It use to be an old firehouse but the city outgrew it. The new firehouse was much larger and further uptown. The doors were locked and I had to be buzzed in. I entered through the front doors, grateful for the warmth of the building. I was greeted by a security guard who informed me the social worker would not be in until later that day but I was more then welcome to come inside and get started on my intake paperwork. He asked me my name. I paused. "Lily," I answered. "Well please come in and warm up Lily," the security guard said with a smile.

As the guard was preparing my paperwork, I asked to use the restroom. He pointed me in the right direction and I took off upstairs to freshen up. The ladies bathroom was communal and had an old medicine cabinet hanging on the wall. I opened it up and found a pair of cheap scissors and a very old bottle of black hair dye. I looked in the mirror at my beautiful, long blonde hair. I ran it through my fingers one last time, and with a long sigh, I began to hack away at it's length.

After I had dyed my hair in the sink, I pulled the towel off my head and stared at my reflection. The cut was choppy but I was pleasantly surprised. I actually liked the new color. I thought it made my blue eyes stand out. I heard a knock on the door. It was the security guard. "Are you alright?" he asked me through the door. "Oh....ummm....yea!" I shouted back at him. "One second please!"

I cleaned up my mess and stepped out of the bathroom. The security guard looked startled at my new appearance but he didn't say anything about it and for that I was grateful. He handed me box of donated clothes. I quickly found an outfit that fit me and threw it on. I also grabbed a pair of pajamas that looked my size. I asked the guard to take my old clothes to the dumpster. He led me downstairs to the office where a manilla folder was sprawled out on the desk. I began the arduous load of paperwork. It took me the rest of the night to fill out all of the forms.

When I finished, the guard led me upstairs to the communal bedroom. I picked a bed close to the wall for some privacy. The bed was cheap but comfortable. I fell asleep just as the sun was coming up. I finally felt safe. It was the best nights sleep I got in years.

The next afternoon I woke up. I grinned as I made up my bed. I felt refreshed and energized. I felt free. My stomach was protesting loudly so I went downstairs to hunt for something to eat. There was a new security guard on duty who led me into the kitchen where I scarfed down two bowls of cereal. After eating I did up my dishes and the guard gave me a tour of the shelter.

The main entrance led into a garage where they use to keep the firetrucks. To the left was the kitchen and to the right was the main office.

The office was small but comfortable and shared by all of the staff. It was packed with firehouse decor and memorabilia.

The kitchen was small and didn't have a stove but there was always food in the cabinets and refrigerator. We were encouraged to buy our own groceries but we wouldn't go hungry if we couldn't. The guard explained to me that I was responsible for my own dishes after every meal.

The second floor was a loft and recreation room. I smiled at the thought of being able to watch television. I had never owned a TV before. Even Matthew didn't own one. The room also had an easel and a telescope.

The guard led me up to the third floor where the communal bedroom and bathrooms were. Each person was assigned a locker to hold their personal items but the lockers were subject to searches at any time. Any contraband would result in a warning and after three warnings you were kicked out of the shelter.

The 3rd floor also held an old Foosball table, a desk, and a book shelf with a bunch of old, donated books.

Lastly, the guard took me outside. I hesitated at the door frame. The guard looked back at me reassuringly. "No one gets in here unless they go through me," he said. He explained the yard was fenced in for our protection and there was an armed guard on duty at all times. "You're safe here, I promise," he assured me with a gentle smile. I couldn't help but return his smile. For the first time in years, someone made a promise I could actually believe. 

Chapter Fifteen

I stayed with Matthew for three years. I wasn't allowed to cut my hair so it grew down to the middle of my back. Matthew never changed. He controlled every aspect of my life. He threatened my family constantly and I believed he would hurt them if I disobeyed. I read all of their e-mails though, which they sent me on a regular basis, but I never once tried to get in touch with them. The cycle never changed. Matthew would come home drunk and assault me.

Then, he would beg for my forgiveness and promise to change.

After that I usually had a few days to one week of peace. Matthew would be loving, attentive, and gentle. After two years of this back and forth behavior I knew better then to believe him when he promised he would stop drinking.

The bruises would come and go and I became an expert at hiding them. I never wore short sleeves or shorts anymore for fear people would see the marks on my extremities.

I laid in bed every night and repeated the address Marina had given me but I never gathered enough courage to actually leave him. Once, I even drove by the shelter but that's as brave as I dared get. I wasn't afraid for myself, I was afraid for my family.

One morning, two years into our marriage, something changed the way I felt about staying. It started as a perfectly normal day. I woke up and Matthew had already left for work. I went downstairs and ate some leftover waffles. The waffles didn't taste as good as they normally did. They made me queasy so I set them aside and went into the living room to study mixology.

About two hours into my studies, I felt a wave of nausea. I set my book down and ran to the bathroom.

I was sick to stomach. After I had vomited, I sat on the bathroom floor. Was I getting sick? I had been tired lately. Maybe I had some sort of stomach bu....my heart felt like it skipped a beat as the realization hit me like a ton of bricks. "No, no no, no," I actually said out loud. I knew I didn't have a stomach bug. Fear froze my body as I did a quick calculation of when I had my last period. I was two weeks late. How did I miss that?

It was Friday so I wasn't allowed out of the house but I knew I had to get to the store to get a pregnancy test. I threw on a rain coat, hat, and sunglasses to hide my identity. I prayed no one would recognize me. Matthew kept track of the miles in the car so I had to take a cab. I arrived at the market and was in and out in a flash.

I got home and quickly took the test. It took three minutes to confirm my fear...I was pregnant.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror. What could I do? I didn't want to raise a child in this environment under the constant fear of being abused. What if it was a boy? What if Matthew raised him to abuse and control women? No. I wouldn't let that happen. I knew what I had to do. My pregnancy had given me the courage to do what I should have done a long time ago.

When Matthew got home from work that day I asked him to go slip into his pajamas. I was going to treat him to a romantic night in. He had hit me just days before so he was in an agreeable mood and I planned to take full advantage of that. I had to leave tonight. If I waited, I risked Matthew finding out about the pregnancy, or worse, not finding out about the pregnancy and putting the baby at risk if he hit me. I made him cocktails all evening. After about four drinks I managed to slip two sleep aids into the fifth drink.

It took about an hour, and a few more drinks, for the sleep aids to finally kick in. I saw Matthew's eyes turn groggy and his body swayed from the combination of alcohol and medication. It was only 7:30 pm but I suggested we turn in for the night. He agreed without a fight. He kissed me goodnight and told me how much he loved me. I felt a twinge of guilt as I tucked him in to bed.

I pretended to sleep on top of the covers. I listened to his breathing slow and I got out of bed when I was sure he was sound asleep. I went into the bathroom and got dressed. I threw on a maroon rain coat and wrapped my long blonde hair in a scarf. I left with only the clothes on my back. I didn't want to risk anybody finding out my true identity. I would get rid of the clothes I was wearing as soon as I could find some new ones. I decided to walk to the shelter instead of calling a cab for that same reason. I didn't want to leave any type of a trail. I slipped out of the bedroom and the door creaked loudly as I shut it. I froze. Matthew stirred in bed. I felt nauseated. How was I going to talk my way out of this one? I stood there, frozen, for 5 minutes. Then 10 minutes. Then 20 minutes. Matthew's breathing eventually returned to slow and rhythmic patterns. I knew he was asleep again. With a deep breath, I turned around and fled.

I stood outside for a moment and looked back at the house. Memories flooded my mind and I hesitated. Before the abuse, life was so perfect. The good memories were then replaced by the bad ones. The memories of pain, loneliness, and loss. I put my hand on my stomach and remembered the reason I was leaving.

I turned around and began to run, visualizing my freedom the whole time.