Bonded Memories

Please don’t hit me mommy

Daddy make her stop

Hey, shut-up and take it like a man

You did the deed, you pay the price

I could hear the screaming from my own house

Tears started rolling down my cheeks

As I remembered back to the days of my own youth

Where punishments could have been handled

Without the stings of the belt

The burns of my dad’s cigars

Mommy’s slaps across the face

As I came back to reality

I heard the pleas of please stop

I made my feet move

Walking towards my phone

I dialed 911

I explained what I heard

I hung the phone up

Placed my keys in the door

Walked to their front porch

Beat on the door with my fists

The door opened brisk

Cursing me to leave right away

The little one peeked from the side

I held my arms out

He raced towards me with tears

The same tears we both shared

Risking being shot at or hit

I raced back to my home

Tearing open the front door

Locking dead bolts and more

I prayed for the almighty God

To save this child for my sake

To take all the guilt I had born

To wipe the memories away

To give the child and myself

A new life with new eyes to see

Then the sounds of the sirens came near

I heard the screams  of put your hands behind you

I peeked out my window

As the dirt and the mud washed away

I turned towards the little fellow

And he buried his cheeks in my bosom

We shared tears for the past and tomorrow

Written by,

Terry Shepherd







#FWF Free Write Friday; Trust


I didn’t have it

I lost it all

When he took my heart

And broke it against the wall


Hush little girl

Don’t say a word

This won’t hurt at all

Nothing will be heard


I swear I will get you

You stupid _____

I don’t know why I married you

You give my finger the itch


Abuse comes in many forms

Age is not a number

The fear I give to you

Will be alive in slumber


Years go by and we grow old

Our bodies turn to rust

The only thing that remains the same

Is the constant lack of trust.

Written by,

Terry Shepherd


Daily Prompt; Cringe-Worthy

Child among the rocks, Daily Post, Daily Prompt, DP

Do you feel uncomfortable when you see someone else being embarrassed? What’s most likely to make you squirm?

When I am in the public today

And I hear something out-of-place

I turn around to see

What the commotion could possibly be

I see a small child of three

Being beat by the mother I see

Red boiling in my eyes

I can only begin to cry

And I will walk over to where they stand

And ask if I can lend a hand

If the mama gets mad at me

I just turn on my cell to see

The numbers 9-1-1

I am reporting an injustice being done

To a wee little and tiny one

Please rescue this child from this

I don’t care if the mother does hiss

No child deserves to be hit or beat

So if you see me on the street

And our paths do eventually meet

You better run for your life I swear

Because God is watching everywhere

He and I see what you have done

You could lose your daughter or son

Don’t ever take me a fool

I will remain so very cool

Be afraid of me I warn

For they deserve to be safe in their environment born.

Terry Shepherd


Picture It & Write


Is this really me I am seeing staring back at me? It can’t be, because this woman I see in my mirror is beautiful, and I am so ugly. I am fat and he has told me so many times over the past years that he felt sorry for me.

He wanted me to know that I wasn’t alone, that he would always be near my side any time. He told me lies. He helped me to believe that no other would ever desire me and because he cared about me he would always try to make me feel beautiful. I have learned that he needed me. But I didn’t realize at that time that I did not  need him. I I was the rabbit and he was the hunter with the gun.

Holding me captured not by his physical power but by his words so full of emotion. Tearing down any self-esteem I may have ever had. Forcing me to believe that I was  a fat worm in a rotten apple.

He never paid any attention to me until I blossomed at 13 years old. I was very shy as a child and when he smiled at me I liked it. He had a way of making me feel so special. I got extra pretty birthday gifts. For Christmas I received expensive gifts. One long box that I opened had my first diamond necklace in it.

He took it out of the box and raised my hair to place it around my neck. I could smell his Old Spice and feel my hairs standing on edge as he breathed so close to my neck. He lured me as a fisherman brings in a beautiful bass.

He took my trust and innocence and broke it into millions of tiny sharp shards  all over the floor. He did this on one night when a knock came to my door and when I learned it was him, I innocently opened it and he stole from me all that I had saved for many years.

Now today years later and an excellent therapist, I look into the mirror and try to do my exercises I was given. I stare at my reflection and I force myself to look close. Is this really me?

Daily Prompt; History of Language

Tomato (Tamatar) Prompt-Daily Post

Write a piece of fiction describing the incident that gave rise to the phrase, “third time’s the charm.”

Right after high school, in fact, the first Saturday after graduation, Sue married her high school sweetheart. She was so in love and it showed in each day of their marriage. But Ron had a hidden secret. A bad temper followed him like the blackest of shadows.

When the two had their first big fight it shocked Sue so much when he slammed her against the living room wall. After thinking about it she just knew that he didn’t mean to do it. Sue knew that he loved her as much as she loved him.

She went to him and apologized for what ever she had done to set him off. He smiled and said, “I’m sorry Baby. I don’t know what got into me. I guess it was just the way it came out of your mouth. It seemed you didn’t understand what I was saying and you were not on my side.”

Sue wiggled closer to him on the couch and gave him her biggest smile thinking to herself, I will always think about the words I use and the tone I carry before I speak. This was all my fault.

After history repeated itself for four more years Sue decided to file for a divorce as she lie in her hospital bed recovering from a broken jaw.

She blamed herself for the divorce and lost all of her self-esteem. She felt she wasn’t good enough for any man so the first time she met Jeff at a local pub, he introduced her to some of his good buddies. They drank and even smoked a little pot. What Sue didn’t realize is that one of these good buddies had slipped a drug into her drink.

She didn’t care what she was doing and with whom she was doing it with. They ended up at one of the friends pads and she was passed among the guys like she was the  main appetizer.

A year later as she was walking back and forth trying to calm her baby she finally got baby Jane to sleep. She put her in her crib and went into her own bedroom. Closing the drapes and kneeling beside her bed she prayed.

Dear God, I have made so many mistakes. I have believed what wasn’t true. I have let myself sink down into the gutters. I know I am better than this because you told me so years ago. Please help me Lord. Help me to trust in you and to stand tall once again with my head held high. Help me to take care of my baby God. Open my eyes and let me see only the good around me. God if you can guide me to a decent man I promise that I will look closely instead of making rash decisions. I don’t want to live alone God. I don’t want to raise Jane without a Daddy. Amen

About a year later Sue and Jane were grocery shopping. She was trying to pick out some ripe tomatoes. A gentleman across from her was doing the same thing. He picked up the brightest, reddest tomato and handed it to her. “Is this what you are searching for? he asked, looking straight into her eyes.

Sue blushed and told him yes and took the tomato from him. Without asking the two went through the aisles of the store talking like they had been friends forever. Bob talked to Jane and had her giggling in no time.

When it was time to check out Bob asked her if he could call her later in the week to take her and Jane out for supper. Sue hesitated and looked up toward  the ceiling thinking, could this be it? God could he be the one? Please give me a sign if you want me to walk a way from this opportunity.

Sue didn’t get any bad feelings and so she looked back at Bob and answered,”yes, that would be nice. Here is my phone number.”

“Thank-you Sue. I will be calling you probably in a couple of days.”

The three parted and as she was loading her groceries into her car she thought to herself, third times a charm.

Picture It & Write It September 09,2012

Today, I am writing for Ermilia, at

She had been held captive for so long by her dead husband, and now she was expressing to the world who she really was. She had lived for seventeen years with a controlling husband. She had done all he had said, followed all of the rules, but it was never enough.

He got satisfaction of seeing the terror in her eyes each time he came after her with a broom handle, or a fire poker. When he said jump, she automatically asked how high. If his meal was not prepared the way he wanted it, he would take the plate and shove the meal in her face, break the plate over her head, and demand that she start over and fix it right.

Inside she screamed tears, hating him, loving him at the same time. She had married young. She had dreams of for ever after, but soon after the vows were said out loud, and the papers signed, she became his property.

She could always remember the night before their wedding, as they lie in each others arms, hearing him profess his love for her, promising to take care of her for the rest of her life. This was the last night she ever remembered  smiles and love flowing from  her heart.

The animal that had been hiding for so many years, had shown itself, the insecurities of this man, called her husband. He was afraid that she would leave him, as his own mother left his father. He was determined that this would not happen in his own marriage, so he started the abuse of holding her hostage, never letting her go.

If she received a phone call, and he was home from work, he would sit so close to her, so he could listen to every word that was said, waiting to see if she was trying to make plans to be with another man. When they went to bed for the evening, instead of holding her in his hands, he was picking out her clothes for the next day, making sure she was not going to be able to draw attention to herself.

Bill paying and getting simple things like groceries, she could always guarantee, that her shadow would be next to her. She could not even take her own bath, as he was always found sitting near by, reading his paper.

Who she thought she was had been ripped apart and now it was hiding in the background of her mind, never knowing if she would ever reappear again.

The one friend she had for so many years, would sneak over to her house by foot, and enter through the back door, so no neighbors would see her. Her husband had met all the neighbors and had warned them that if they ever saw someone drive in to their drive way, or saw her outside, to please call him, because as he explained, his dear wife had suffered an emotional break down and was in a fragile situation. With his smiling face and sparkling teeth, they had no reason to question him, and so helped him to keep an eye on his house for him.

As the best friend observed more black eyes and bruises the two would plot on how to get her out of the house unharmed, but never being able to quite pull it off. The phone would ring, her husband calling to check up on her, scaring the girlfriend enough to go home.

One evening, he did not come straight home from work, and when he did unlock the front door he was drunk. There had been a birthday party for the boss, and after work the bunch of them ended up at the local bar celebrating. Although he was drunk, he was not so much that he ignored her and what she was doing.

She was found to be sitting by the window where she had been watching head lights go by, wondering what he was doing and where he was. He immediately asked her who she was waiting for, and when she replied that he was who she had been waiting for he became enraged.

He raced towards her and grabbed her and threw her on the couch. He grabbed her hair and with his other hand started slapping her over and over in the face, bouncing her head back and forth. She reached out and grabbed his hands and bit him. He was not prepared for this attack from her and he jumped back in pain, inspecting his bite marks.

This gave her time enough to run to her bedroom and slam the door locking it behind her.
She jerked open her night stand drawer, and there lying hidden in the shadows at the back of the drawer, was the revolver that her best friend had given her only a few days a go. Her friend said use it, please use it when he hurts you. Please don’t let him kill you.

She quietly took the revolver out and cocked it and aimed it at the bedroom door, as her friend had taught and instructed her. She could feel her breathing choking her lungs, and sweat was pouring from her brow as the fear rose inside of her.

She wanted to live, and she was going to live. She had enough of this so-called love. The door knob was being rattled as she heard words being yelled at from the other side. Let me in. I know you have someone in there. Let me in you untrustworthy bitch!

She stood still aiming the gun as he thrust his body against the door until it came slamming opened. She didn’t hesitate and shots could be heard, echoing from within the walls of the house. He fell to the ground, and silence bursted from the room. She dropped the gun, and went and called 911.

The cops came and arrested her for the murder of her husband.  A trial was placed and with the help of her girlfriends testimony, she was let go and found to be innocent against the crazy man.

A few years later, she was holding her brush,  teaching her class of students, showing them how to tilt the brush and to gently let it glide down the paper, to make the vines from the rose. With the right pressure being held, students were being taught how to express themselves. The topic for this art class was called love.


Open Doors

Open Door A welcoming open door at St.Mary Mag...

Open Door A welcoming open door at St.Mary Magdalene's church (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

He jerked her by the hair and shook her head, yelling at her to get up. To stop the begging for attention thing. He wasn’t going to tolerate it anymore! All she could do is lie there. She could hear every word he was saying but could not defend herself with actions nor words. She was about to pass out. He drug her from the floor and put her on the couch, yelling what’s the matter with you? She managed to voice the words that her sugars were low. I could hear him laughing, as he walked in to the kitchen and poured a bowl of cereal. Putting the milk on and grabbing a spoon, he took it to her and thrust it in her lap. She started eating it slowly. It was so difficult to make her body move by this point. She wasn’t eating fast enough for his liking, so he took the bowl and dumped it over her head, laughing and walking away. She wasn’t going to go in to a coma, not here, not like this. She somehow made it to the kitchen and scooped out sugar from the sugar bowl and poured it in her mouth with her hands. She fell to the floor, so weak, barely able to stand. She laid there until the sugar did its job. She was able to stand up again and minute by minute she was back to herself. She hated him. She hated him with a passion, but she knew she couldn’t make it on her own, so she stayed and tolerated the abuse.  When her kids came to visit, they begged her to leave him. Mom, he isn’t worth it! He is going to end up killing you. Please get out. They didn’t realize that I had no money. He controlled everything in her life. Money, decisions, clothes she wore, what foods they were going to buy and eat, what friends she had. She was flat broke. God was watching over her though, he was there with her when she didn’t even ask or want him to be. She got a phone call from a friend of a friend, whose parents needed a caregiver . She asked how many hours, and what days, and decided she would take the job. It was a break from him and a way to get out. She had no car, but he figured he would take her since it was going to be more money in his pocket. She loved her job. She loved being needed. The parents were so sweet. It was hard not to fall in love with them. She connected with the extended family and found bonding with all of them so easy. She started hiding a portion of her pay from her husband, and after about six months, she had enough saved up to move in to an apartment of her own. Thanks to a long time friend, she now owned a used car. Although she had no money for deposits for rents, or utilities, God opened all doors for her. The rent deposit was broken down into small monthly payments. The land lady understood very well what she had been put through. The deposits for the utilities were zero dollars. She paid her first month rent, and went back to her home. She waited until he went to work, and gathered all she could fit in her car. Leaving a note, saying, see ya!. When she unlocked the door to her new home, a huge boulder was instantly lifted from her shoulders. She was free! Free! She carried her belongings in side from her car and started putting things in place where she thought they should go. After she completed this, she laid down on her bed and drifted off to sleep. When she woke up, it was just dusk. She took a shower, and got dressed and grabbed her purse, and out the door she went. Inside her car, she checked her wallet, and she knew if she was very careful she could get enough groceries until next pay-day. She drove to the store and walked in like she had never been there before. Her head was held high, a smile on her face, saying hi to everyone that looked her way. She had done it! She had asked for a way to escape the abuse, and God heard her and opened all doors.