The Witness

When people ask me why I don't speak to anyone in my family I tell them. I explain how my teachers invited me to sleep over in second and fourth grade. They thought I was exceptional and they knew my mother was a monster. When the abuse became intolerable and threatened my life I began running away. I started at age 15, and settled in Rhode island at age 17. Years later I visited my favorite teacher for lunch in NYC, this teacher told me "I met a lot of parents at Mamaroneck High School but your mother was one of the worst." That was all the validation I ever needed. Thank you I said, for being my WITNESS. You've saved me a lot.

The work is never ending because now there are the siblings who are holding the torch on behalf of the abuser. The abuser who I call Hitler, when discussing her with my husband. "They want me to kiss Hitler's ass," I'll say. No way, never! I shout. The siblings want a perfect family which means ignoring my experience of torture and abuse. No way, Never I say.