“Woman you make mockery of me a gentleman of his kind. Make haste to get out of my sight-filth,” he spat. “Please! I beg of you Sir Hamilton forgive my person for my indiscretion,"mother pleaded, “I hadn’t meant to disgrace you amongst your men. Forgive my folly.” The very second my words hit his ears so did his palm reach my face-hard. Drunk, incoherent, shaking with rage he unbuckled his belt granting me in kind several strokes of the leather. “Please sir! don’t disrespect my person in front of my daughter, “voice laced with pain I tried to appeal to his kinder side making my will known as my fingers reached his boot, “I beg, she is young, she needn’t see me so.”
I watched my spirited mother, eyes red with salted tears, bent over kissing the floor as her gentleman lover beat her. She spoke of him, her fourth lover, with such fondness whilst convincing me of his kind words and gentle arms that held her, “with love, “she whispered. Here, now, I bear witness to those arms welting my mother till her screams were garbled with pain. After the dastardly deed he waited not a moment as he reached for the portal to escape from the, “wretch,” he cursed as he left. I was but 10 when I witnessed how gruesome love was: pain, shame, misery, and pretense. I suppose mother never learnt because soon she found a fifth lover, then a sixth and now I have lost count. Ever since her husband abandoned her for the woman he coveted my beautiful, kind, fiery mother was naught but a shell of herself calling upon willing lovers to fill the void. Finally the last lover in her life time-death- enticed her out the window as she willingly stepped forth into his arms that took her into oblivion.