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Domestic Violence is Inhumane and Criminal
Violent crimes entail both crimes in which the violent act is the object (murder or rape) and crimes in which violence is the means to an end. Domestic violence is a violent crime that encompasses violence or abuse in a domestic setting. It often involves a spouse or intimate partner where violence against an intimate partner's relationship ultimately could be the means to an end.
Domestic volence usually includes physical violence, sexual violence, threats, and emotional or psychological violence. The frequency and severity of domestic violence vary dramatically. Additionally, there are some commonalities between human trafficking and domestic violence.
A Story: To protect the victim's idendity, I will refer to her as Broken Glass (B.G.).
Broken Glass and I are from the same small town and graduated from the same high school. She is a special kind of person, note-worthy, free-spirited, kind, generous, always ready to help anyone in need. B.G. is a great person to have as a friend. She laughs as though there is no tomorrow, full of joy and bold but sophisticated. It didn't take much of anything to make her laugh; she loved laughing and making others laugh.
On one of our girl's nights out, B.G. found a new friend. He was tall, handsome, charming, and drove a fancy car. She was smitten! I found myself alone and waiting for her to return my call. She spent most of her time with her newfound love. They were either on an outing or a planned quiet evening at his place every day. You could say that they were attached so tight at the hip that a breath of fresh air couldn't slip between them. I didn't understand why he wanted her in his sight all the time. He even installed a tracker on his phone and he knew her location all the time. But she didn't seem to mind spending all her time with him.
The day she met the one she thought would be her forever soulmate, she was so happy. On our way home from the club, she laughed so loud her voice overpowered the music from the radio. Since high school, we have been in each other's lives, and I can't remember another time when she was so carefree and happy.
After six months of dating, they got engaged. Things changed instantly. Broken Glass didn't go out with me as much. We didn't talk on the phone anymore. Going to the movies or out to lunch was out of the question. I was concerned about the sudden change in our relationship. But she was engaged, soon to be married, so I figured I better get used to her not being around.
I was in a meeting when B.G. called. She suggested a lunch date. I was excited about seeing her, but she didn't sound like B.G. There wasn't any excitement or jovialness in her voice. Unfortunately, we couldn't meet for lunch. She called to tell me she was in the hospital, and asked me to come over before her husband arrived. But I couldn't go right away because I had a flat tire and was waiting for roadside service to arrive.
Horrible thoughts were flooding my mind. What's going on? Something is not right! Why did she call me? We had not spoken for over a month, but today she called, and she called from the hospital. Finally, roadside service arrived, fixed the tire, and sent me on my way.
When I arrived at the hospital, I saw her husband, Mr. Controller, standing outside her door with a vase stuffed with red roses, a Teddy Bear, and he was talking on his phone. When I started to B.G.'s room, the nurse informed me that she couldn't have visitors. Only family was allowed. Well, I was family. When her parents divorced, they both moved away, but she was in college, so she stayed in town; at our house more than she was in her dorm room. So, I was her family.
I pushed down all my anger and pride and asked Mr. Controller if I could visit my friend. He looked at me with fire in his eyes, malice in his heart, and deep-rooted anger towards me. He hated me, I could feel it deep down in my gut. He started yelling and demanding that I leave the hospital. He said that B.G. didn't want to see me again because I was trying to break up their marriage. The yelling got so loud the nurse asked him to lower his voice. Just when I thought the situation couldn't get any worse, the last stab to my heart came when I heard my friend, my sister, B.G., yell from her room for me to leave her alone.
Devastated and heartbroken, I left the hospital. Deep down I knew B.G. didn't want me to go, but she was entrapped in a violent and vicious cycle. She had to say what she needed to say to survive and please Mr. Controller. I knew in my heart she loved me; we have been in each other's lives since high school. She was family, and I wasn't going to give up on her. The follwoing next day, I called the hospital pretending to be her sister, but I still could not get an update on her condition. I was determined that I wouldn't be defeated. So, I took the day off from my job and follow Mr. Controller around trying to get and idea of the time of day and night he went to visit B.G.
Finally, he left his office at seven that evening, and I followed him stright to the hospital. I waited in my car watching for him to leave the hospital. I was unsure if I should go inside right away, thinking he may double back. So I stayed in the restroom on B.G.'s floor about twenty minutes. On my way to her room, I noticed several nurses and doctors in the hallway and in her room. I overheard one of the nurses in the hallway asking, "What happened? She was up walking in the halls about thirty minutes ago.
I saw three or four people working with B.G.'s from the hallway. She wasn't responding to their voice or touch. I finally heard someone say, let's get her to surgery now. My heart began to race, "Surgery, why does she need surgery?" I finally pulled myself together enough in all the chaos to ask what had happened. I asked why does my sister need surgery? I was told she suffered a severe head injury. According to the nurse, she fell down the stairs. The trauma of the fall knocked a hole in the right temporal area of the skull. I can remember the thickness in the air, it got harder for me to breath, heaviness in my chest, and the weakness in my knees. Suddenly, everything went black; I fainted.
I woke up on the floor in the hallway outside B.G.'s room. Two nurses were lightly slapping my face, trying to get me to breathe in a bag. Where's B.G.? What's going on? I was told she was in surgery; she was bleeding on the brain. I screamed out Mr. Controller's name; he did it, I know he did! That's when he appeared on the floor. I was filled with rage at the sight of him and I attacked, pushing him up against the glass door. I remember yelling repeatedly, what did you do? What did you do? Mr. Controller never gave an answer which fueled my rage even more.
Finally, a nurse walked me to the waiting room, and I called B.G.'s parents. After what seemed like hours, Mr. Controller came down to the waiting area. I looked at him with utter disgust and asked him, "Why are you here"? "Why are you not upstairs and be there when B. G. comes out of surgery?" He got defensive, and an argument ensued, which got out of hand. I remember throwing one of my shoes, striking him in the face, and yelling, "Whatever happened to B.G.? You did it. I know you hit her in the head, cracked her skull, and caused a bleed on her brain. She didn't fall down the stairs. You hurt her!
At this point, warm tears streamed down my face like a river. I could see Mr. Controller trying to move towards me. So many emotions were pent up inside at that moment, I knew if he came for me, I was going to give him all my fury. However, this battle was interrupted by the door opening.
Two police officers walked in, calling me by name. "We need to talk to you about your friend. Come with me." But the conversation was interrupted by two doctors and a nurse walking into the room and asked us to have a seat. The look on their face told the story. Mr. Controller's body stiffened, and his breathing was heavy and rapid. B.G. was dead. She didn't make it through the surgery. My heart melted ...
We cannot expect someone else to love us if we do not love ourselves first.
DOMESTIC VIOLENCE:
It is a willful act of physical assault, intimidation, sexual assault, battery, threats, and emotional psychology. Domestic violence is a systematic pattern of power and control practiced by one of the intimate partners against another. (National Coalition Against Domestic Violence, 2015).
Sometimes the loss of life is directly connected to domestic violence. Here are some of the red flags or warning signs of an abuser:
Extreme jealousy
Possessiveness
Unpredictability
A bad temper
Cruelty to animals
Verbal abuse
Extremely controlling behavior
Antiquated beliefs about roles of women and men in relationships
Forced sex or disregard of their partner's unwillingness to have sex
Sabotage of birth control methods or refusal to honor agreed-upon methods
Blaming the victim for anything wrong that happens
Sabotage or obstruction of the victim's ability to work or attend school
Controls all the finances
Abuse of other family members, children, or pets
Accusations of the victim flirting with others or having an affair
Control of what the victim wears and how they act
You are demeaning the victim either privately or publicly.
Embarrassment or humiliation of the victim in front of others
Harassment of the victim at work
If you or you know of someone in a violent domestic relationship, Call the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-SAFE (7233) or, online, go to DomesticShelters.org.
Reference:
DomesticShelters.org, Fontes, L. A., & Kippert, A. (n.d.). Find domestic violence and abuse help, information, and stats. DomesticShelters.org. Retrieved March 2, 2022, from https://www.domesticshelters.org/
NCADV (Ed.). (n.d.). NCADV: National Coalition Against Domestic Violence. The Nation's Leading Grassroots Voice on Domestic Violence. Retrieved March 2, 2022, from https://ncadv.org/signs-of-abuse
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