Never No More- Part One

“Slow down, Keith. I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” Christina Alexander warned her four-year-old son. The two has just arrived home from Keith’s first day of preschool and the boy was feeling a bit on the rambunctious side today. He had bolted from the car and headed right for the family room; Keith’s love for cartoons seemed to be infinite. Also much adored by the blonde child was blasting his cartoons at nearly the highest level the 35” TV would go to, something that Christina had grown immune to. She had entered her second year of grad school recently and, despite her husband’s futile efforts, had started on some online courses to accelerate the grad school process. She was spending much more time with Keith; that was something that was a major pro about the online courses. Hence the immunity to the nearly deafening television.

Christina set her books down in the bedroom and quickly glanced at the large digital clock on the nightstand. It read 3:24 PM. Rich would be home in an hour or two so she really had to start on her housework before it got too late. She quickened her pace while heading down the hallway of her relatively new house that was much larger and more elegant than the studio apartment she was occupying before she had met Rich. It had been six years that she had been living with him; she could hardly believe that fact herself.

The attractive brunette pulled her hair up into a ponytail, a sure sign that she was ready to get down to business. She gazed about the room, trying to get her wits about her. What exactly is in dire need of my attention, she thought to herself. With that, Christina set to work. She did the laundry, cleaned up the kitchen, fed Keith and vacuumed the entire house. By the time Rich came home, the slender housewife had just finally sat down to enjoy the fruits of her labor. The door opened and in stepped Rich Alexander, the normally debonair businessman who could charm anything out of anybody with his swift persuasion and that famous smile, which is what he was giving Christina as her entered the house.

“Wow, baby. I’m impressed. How long have you been cleaning?”

Just then, Keith pried himself away from the TV and gave a firm bear hug to his father, who returned it ten fold.

“Thanks, hold you applause, please,” Christina replied, laughing. She then gave Rich her version of Keith’s bear hug albeit many times weaker.

Rich paused. He noticed that Christina had not yet started on his dinner, which was a mortal sin in the eyes of this middle aged CEO. His eyes narrowed while all of the natural childlike energy faded and his true aggression was about to show through.

“Christina, could I please see you in the kitchen for a minute? Keith, go back to watching cartoons...champ,” the venom in Rich’s voice for the first sentence was felt by all in the room, even Keith.

Christina, like a child in trouble, shuffled her way into the kitchen, pulled a chair from the kitchen table over and prepared herself. She knew what was coming up.

The mood in the room grew even tenser than it already was. Nothing was heard except for the staccato ticking of the clock and the faint sound of the television in the living room. Suddenly, he started in on her.

“Christina, I work so hard for you and Keith. I sit in that office for hours on end, trying to make sure he has the kind of life that I never had. But what do I expect when I come home? You know what I expect?!? I expect dinner ready, the house spotless and you not focused on that school of yours,” he fumed, his tone growing louder and more hostile with each sentence. Rich glared down at Christina a few times while speaking, sending her even further down in her chair.

“But Rich--”

“But nothing!” He exclaimed and then drew his right hand back, slapping her across her petite face. The sheer force that Rich applied knocked Christina out of the tall white chair she was being beraided in. She struggled to get back on her feet, wanting the scene to look less scary if Keith just so happened to walk in for a snack. She was almost jogging to the bathroom, trying to dry her tears and also giving herself time to calm down. After a couple of minutes, she was ready to head into the family room again. Keith was seemingly unfazed by the scene that happened only feet from him, really mesmerized by the bright lights of the screen.

Christina sat down in the elegant mahogany chair that was in the corner of the room. She tried to contain herself but she couldn’t help but break down. She bolted out of the room albeit rather quietly as to not disturb her offspring.

She went into the bedroom, shut the smooth white door, locked it and immediately grabbed for the cordless phone, hands shaking and stomach growing ever more queasy. She dialed the number of her best friend, Denise. Ring. Ring. Come on Denise, pick up the phone, she thought frantically.

“Hello?” It was Denise.

“Denise?” Christina’s tone was weak and warbly, barely intelligible. This was her last hope.

“Chris? Honey, what’s wrong?” the two had been the best of friends since the 4th grade and had only gotten closer over the course of their relationship. Her concern was rather blatant.

“Um...well...Rich...he...uh...,” she couldn’t quite find the words to express what she felt or what exactly Rich has done to her over the past two years if their marriage. She continued.

“Denise, Rich hit me. He has been hitting me for two years,” Christina quietly muttered. There, I admitted it to someone, she thought, feeling more cleansed than before.

Denise was quiet. Too quiet. Silently Christina wanted her to go on.

“Chris...I...I’m so sorry. I wish you would’ve told me a lot sooner,” Denise replied, shocked by the confession. Never in a million years did she think anything like this would happen.

“Come on over later, when Keith and Rich are asleep”, she suggested.

“No, I want to settle this now. I am sick and tired of the way that he treats me. Denise, I’m going to go to the cops. Maybe they’ll help me and solve my problem without making it violent or anything,” the petite brunette pleaded, her tone going from highly aggressive back to soft and shaky. She touched the red mark on her face, grimacing enough to convince her that something had to be done.

“Alright, Chris. Whatever makes you feel the most comfortable, girl. I would personally rather just take him out and not go through all that police mess but really, it’s your choice. Want to go tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Christina struggled to get out. She concluded her conversation with Denise, making plans to meet tomorrow, and just went to bed.