The Day The Police Was Called: A Tale of Child Abuse - 1

Charlee Felice By Charlee Felice, 22nd Aug 2014 | Follow this author | RSS Feed | Short URL http://nut.bz/27q3q71c/
Posted in Wikinut>Family>Domestic Violence & Abuse

A tale of child abuse is a true story lived back in 1992. At the time it was a scary moment that I wish to share to give hope.

In 1992

It was sometime in 1992, early in the year. I was home tending to the children when I heard my son scream for help. My heart started pumping, for I could hear in his voice how terrified he was. I hurriedly put the baby down and ran outside to his aid. What my eyes witnessed was total terror.

When I ran outside, I watched my son as he flew in the air about 6 feet, hit the garage door, and came down to the ground. Standing in front of him was my husband. He had grabbed my son by his arm and leg and had tossed him like a piece of garbage. I ran to him, but I was slapped and pushed to the side.

All I could do was squirm my way into the house, grab the phone, and call the police. I told them to hurry and do not call back because if he found out I had called, things would get worse. I hung up the phone and ran back outside.

My husband was hitting my son with a switch (a piece of a tree branch with spikes from where he cut it off). My son was bleeding, screaming his heart out, and there was nothing I could do. Each time I tried, he pushed me out of the way and became angrier.

All of the sudden, the phone rings. I ran to the phone to answer it and it was the police operator calling back. I asked why they called back. As I said that, my husband stood behind me and took the phone away.

Scary

He hung up the phone, and yanked it of the wall. He started yelling, screaming, and pushing me around. However, I did not mind because as long as he was focused on me, my son was not suffering even more. A few moments later, he stopped, grabbed his keys, ran like a coward, and left our home. Thank God.

The police arrived a few minutes later. Shortly after, the paramedics arrived. The house was filled with emergency personnel. The paramedics tended to my son’s injuries. He had welts on his leg, just behind the knee. He had visible scratches and blood had covered his leg. He was crying in pain.

He looked so helpless. I looked at him and felt like I had betrayed him. I could not protect him. I felt helpless and useless. How could I let this happen to him?

In the meantime, the police was asking for his description, the description of the car, and any other pertinent information so they could begin to search for him. Just as they were ready to dispatch some units, my husband arrived back at the house.

The police arrested him, immediately. He was charged with aggravated child abuse. They put him in the police car and drove off with him. Other officers remained behind, along with the emergency personnel.

After the paramedics tended to my son, he joined me and the rest of the kids in the living room. A couple of police officers were sitting in front of me. They were asking questions about the incident.

As I was sitting there talking, the church pastor, some church members, and my friend arrived. I had managed to make one call to my friend in the middle of the chaos. She in turn called the pastor and a chain reaction occurred. There must have been over 30 persons in the house to show their support.

Tags

Domestic Abuse, Domestic Abuse Story, Domestic Violence

Meet the author

author avatar Charlee Felice
Write to love, love to write.
A bit of this and a tad of that. However, inspiration, love, relationships, and health are my best topics.

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