I'm Telling Someone

by gloriapoole.

"I was a throw-away woman,

but for the grace of GOD.

The children of darkness

are wiser than the children

of the light,

so says The Bible,

in the ways of evil.

The children of the light

must first endure

the hatred of  evil,

the attacks of the devil,

intended to  destroy;

then come to terms

in their souls first,

with the grief, and pain,

and anguish;

that splinters their minds,

and souls,

and bodies.

When the onslaught of

the powers of darkness,

like a steam roller

over their lives,

crushing bones,

obliterating minds,

and futures.

Or trying too.

Attacks on  The Spirit

of life itself;

producing shock,

unbelief,

disorientation,

disordered,

chaotic,

mind-splintering,

suffering.

That crashing

down,

down,

down,

with the force of trauma,

applied to every fiber,

every nerve,

every cell,

bone crunching,

displacing,

into pieces,

the joints,

and stretching the ligaments,

and tendons,

into disabling injury.

Of Body.

And Soul.

And Mind.

Distorting the thoughts,

and memory,

of all that

like the fairy-tale

of innocent childhood,

evaporated,

vanished,

like a puff of smoke

from a diesel,

in the winds of

cyclone.

The bones shatter,

the mind separates

itself from the pain,

of being hated.

of feeling the bits of bone,

like shards of glass

embedded

in the tender flesh.

And bone pain of

fractured strength,

fractured hardness

and intactness,

into pieces

of bone,

scattered;

and tendons and ligaments,

stretched

beyond normal capacity,

rendering an upright

walkabout woman,

into a crawling,

child-like waif,

abandoned,

in hopes the neglect

will cause the final death;

of the one so hated.

Because I said, 'I've never

suffered an injury,

because GOD watched over me."

provoking,

the power of evil,

and darkness,

to wipe out forever

my Praise of GOD.

Or try too.

BUT for the grace of GOD.

I survived.

The insidious tearing down

of my self-respect,

the hatred,

the contempt,

of a man,

who took vows

to love me

and cherish me,

then tried to destroy me.

A man who said,

he hated me so much

that I could not even imagine it.

That was then.

Now I imagine it nightly.

A man who said,

in word and deed,

that all he cared about

was money.

And who said, he

"didn't want wimmen"

after having married one.

I survived.

his hatred.

his physical attacks,

his contempt,

his effort to obliterate me.

I survived;

his attempts to destroy me,

steal my very name,

and consume my identity.

I survived.

By the grace of GOD.

WHO gave me,

supernatural strength,

to drag myself,

fractured bones

and all;

with reeling mind,

wandering consciousness,

up a flight of stairs,

pushing with the strong leg,

bumping up the steps,

one

by

agonizing

one.

Until I reached my apartment,

and sat on the floor,

fumbling for the key,

and unlocked the door,

and crawled in,

on all fours,

like a infant,

and pulled myself

to the sofa,

and called on phone for help.

But then in came the

evil again,

the face of the devil,

reappeared ,

in my face,

snatching away the phone,

suddenly.

"Don't tell anyone,

or I'll kill you,"

he growled at me.

He grabbed my broken

leg, swollen, tender, discoloring,

and twisted it like twisting

the lid on a jar,

like trying to separate my foot

from my leg;

I screamed!

"Don't tell anyone,

or I'll kill you, " he said,

as he hung up the phone.

I understood

the message.

My mind was reeling,

my ankle was throbbing,

my heart was breaking,

and my life was ending.

Or so it seemed.

But the grace of GOD,

saved me.

Hysterical sobbing,

unable to stand,

writhing in pain,

moaning,

sick to my stomach,

but I understood,

that my life depended

upon play-acting

a  calculated calm.

Through the night,

the demon stayed.

Sleeping on the edge

of the marital bed with me,

so I could not leave,

guarding the phone,

so I could not call

anyone.

Telling me,

'don't tell anyone,

or I'll kill you."

The last words he spoke

to me, alone

in our dwelling.

Before leaving the

next morning,

when he was fooled

into thinking I had

given up on life.

No comfort,

no relief from pain,

no hugs or kisses,

no soothing words

of reassurance.

"Don't tell anyone"

with a clenched jaw,

and hands formed into

fists.

"Don't tell anyone,

or I'll kill you."

he growled at me

like the demon he is,

repeating his oft

message to  me

said many times before,

"Don't tell " the Judge if he

asks you what happened;

"don't tell the doctor"

"don't tell the surgeon"

don't tell the Church;

don't tell, don't tell,

don't tell,

DON'T TELL.

But I'm Telling.

with this

because the words

haunt me still.

The night is dreadful

sometimes,

when I think I hear him

in the hallway,

and the fear comes over

me like a fog

descended on my brain,

and the sick feeling

wells up in my stomach,

and my throat gets dry,

and I lay very still,

and listen to see.

If it is real,

is he there?

or did I have a nightmare?

Those words of

a wicked man,

who was my husband then,

but not now,

and thank GOD!

GOD in HIS mercy,

saved me.

and took the very trauma,

and turned it against the evil,

so the devil fled

that morning,

leaving me to die,

he thought.

too injured to stand up,

or walk;

too disoriented to think

clearly,

what to do?

and how?

great, engulfing tears,

like the waters of the

Tennessee Valley

turned loose;

suddenly,

flooding my mind,

water-logging my brain,

waves of nausea,

heaving,

gagging,

producing nothing,

but more hurt;

stomach too empty,

nerves too damaged,

mind gone;

it seems.

BUT for the grace of GOD

I'd be dead.

BUT for the grace of GOD,

my mind would be

in a never land

where life is pleasant

and there is no suffering.

BUT for the grace of GOD,

my foot would have been

separated from my body.

BUT for the grace of GOD,

my skull would have been

fractured.

BUT for the grace of GOD,

I would have been among

the dead,

and not the living.

The devil tried to destroy me,

but he failed.

BECAUSE GOD PREVAILED.

And the power of GOD

defeats the devil,

every time.

I am alive.

And I walk,

though wobbly,

unsteady,

with a limp,

that gets worst

from a walkabout,

that would have been

no exertion at all,

before.

Before looking into the

face of evil,

and hearing the words,

"Don't tell or

I'll Kill you."

And enduring the

calamitous crash

down the stairs,

and the deliberate effort,

to break off my foot,

from my leg;

after it was fractured;

and the pain was agonizing,

to make sure I understood,

what he meant.

"Don't tell or I'll kill you."

Before my path

crossed the devil,

in the stairwell,

of what was my home;

I considered myself

a sane woman.

With her head

on straight,

and a future.

The shame of it all,

realizing finally,

with absoluteness,

how many events

of evil,

had happened;

that preceded that crash.

His effort to shove me

out the upstairs window,

and choke me,

and poison me

with pesticide,

and crash my bike,

and crash down stairs

before with my foot

caught in his jacket

he threw there;

and kidnap me,

in the parking lot

of the so-called

"justice" building

after I testified to tell,

only a tiny bit of

what happened,

before:

the more mild events,

of abuse,

neglect,

abandonment;

threats,

terror,

panic.

disposal of my assets,

even my shoes;

theft of my mail,

and identity.

"I'll cut your throat--

get in the car",

he said,

but I ran,

and ran,

and ran for my life.

But evil caught up,

and grabbed me;

BUT GOD intervened,

and sent a deputy,

who saw,

and became a shield

for me;

against evil,

and handcuffed the devil.

A deputy who was alert,

recognized the threat,

and saved me.

A real hero.

who handcuffed the devil!

And took him away.

Did I say thank you?

I don't think so.

I think I was nearly

incoherent,

babbling,

crying,

sobbing,

terrified.

The devil is gone

from my life,

and now I thank GOD.

I praise GOD

because I am alive,

and my mind,

is slowly

returning to me."