Words Crush, Slam, Destroy

~Handle them carefully, for words have more power than atom bombs~~ Peral Strachan Hurd

Kay at 16 years old.

~~”When did it all begin?” Somebody asked me after Kay’s execution.

“At the very beginning.” I responded.

All of the signs were there, I guess.

He’d sit outside our house for hours waiting for Kay to get home from other engagements.

He’d beg her to go out with him.

Please. Please. Please.

He’d promised her a better life, a beautiful life.

She was sixteen.

He was twenty two.

She married him three years later.

“Am I doing the right thing?” She asked the night before the wedding.

“No.” I said. ” Hell, No. Don’t fucking do it.”

“But Mom and Dad already paid for everything. How can I back out now? Everyone will be mad at me.”

She had a baby right away. Then another. And another.

But he was never a father.

Never a husband.

Never a man.

He only saw Kay.  Only wanted Kay.  Only wanted somebody he could control.

She’d often say…”He crushes my spirit, my soul. He doesn’t respect me. He makes me feel small, stupid.”

I wish I would have known  then that Domestic Abuse is not simply about slamming one’s head against a wall.

I wish I would have known then that words  Slam, Crush, Destroy.

Words can destroy the essence of who we are, who we might be.

She thought he’d change.

He never did.

“All I desire is to be respected. I want him to listen to my dreams, goals, ideas. I so much want to be loved. I so much want to be respected.”

He never respected her.

The ending was like the beginning.

The murderer stalked her, broke into her facebook, watched her from a distance, and  listened to her phone calls.

He pleaded with her:

“I’ll change. I’ll go to church with you. I’ll be better. Don’t leave me.”

Please.  Please. Please.

It was too late.

On May 26, 2010, the murderer waited for Kay to get home from work.

He waited like a like a predator, like a monster.

Perhaps he said a small prayer before he snuck up behind her.

Perhaps he said nothing.

Oh, God, I hope he said nothing.

He put the gun to the back of her head and pulled the trigger three times.

Darkness fell.  The sun diminished.  The earth shook.

In Kay’s last journal page, she wrote:

“I wish he’d leave me alone.  Why can’t he be happy?   Why can’t he just get out of my life.   Help me. Help me.  Help me.”

But it was too late.

It was too damn fucking fucking late.

Kay was executed by Mike Peterson on May 26, 2010.  The world stopped.  The void will NEVER be filled.

800-799-SAFE (7233) or at TTY 1-800-787-3224.

http://www.thehotline.org/get-help/help-in-your-area/

In Memory of Kay

CLick for help if you are being physically abused, verbally abused,

emotionally abused, belittled, diminished, finacially abused,

sexually abused, or  minimized in any way…>>