By the time I turned sixteen,
I was looking for an escape route.
I met a man who was seven years my senior
and ran away from home with him.
We were married in a little civil ceremony
and for the first year or so, things were good.
I knew he had a drinking problem,
but being young and none too wise,
I thought this would pass.
By the time I was 17, I had a little baby boy.
He was and is so special
but by then, my husband's true nature had surfaced
and I had gone from the proverbial frying pan
into the fire.
Amazing, isn't it?
The following year, I had another child,
a little girl.
Here I was, 18 years old,
with two children,
an alchoholic husband, who was very quickly
becoming physically abusive as well.
I became pregnant with my third child,
but lost him after a severe beating.
I couldn't even walk into the hospital.
I had to be carried.
Police had been called in
but that was still in the days
when police just kinda shook their fingers
and told him not to do it again.
I had no place to turn.
Things remained the same for the ten years
of our marriage from hell.
I had another son,
and because of the children
I will never regret this experience.
Finally, after three attempts on my life,
I got the courage up to leave.
Nobody said it would be easy and it sure wasn't.
I was 26 years old,
with no marketable skills,
and three children, who were dependant on me.
Where do I go from here?