by hitandrun1964


Billy was an angry man

he hated his own life

but instead of making changes

he took it out on his children & his wife

his hands, his belt, a wooden spoon;

anything in reach would do

and after every vicious assault

he made sure they knew it was their fault

~Melanie Thomason

The Connely boys…

Short story


Everyone thought Billy, Bobby and Jimmy were brothers, I mean they did have the same last name, after all.  But the truth is, the boys were not related in any way.  Matt and Clarise Connely had Billy and then sort of picked up Bobby and Jimmy along the way.

They were living on Elm Street, in a sleepy sort of town, when Bobby started hanging around their house.  He and Billy became friends and what was once a, “would you like to stay for dinner,” invitation quickly turned in to an every night occurrence.  Bobby, it seemed, was afraid to go home. Clarise could see it on his face and in his manner.  One night, when everyone went into the living room, she asked him to stay the kitchen for a moment.  Clarise asked Bobby to sit down at the table, which he did rather reluctantly.   She gave him a plate of chocolate chip cookies, right out of the oven, so the chips were soft and stringy, just the way he liked them.

“You’re almost living here,” said Clarise sweetly.

“Can I?” asked Bobby.

“Can you what?”

“Live here,” he answered in a rush, his eyes wide, chocolate smeared across his upper lip.  “Please.”

“I don’t know if your parents would like that,” said Clarise, leaning toward him, grabbing a cookie.

“They won’t care.  They won’t even know I’m gone,” said Bobby.

“I’m sure they’ll miss you.”

“They won’t.  I promise.”

“I guess I can talk to your…”

“NO,” shouted Bobby, in a panic.  “You can’t say anything or he’ll beat her.  He’ll beat me too.”

“Your father beats you?” asked Clarise, as calmly as she could, though her heart raced and her face felt flushed.

Bobby looked down, and nodded.

“Okay then,” said Clarise.  “Welcome home.”

Bobby put his head down on the table and fell asleep instantly.

Clarise walked into the living room and said, “I want to move and not tell anyone where we are going.”

Matt said, “Okay,” since he knew his wife was never frivolous and assumed that she had a good reason for wanting to leave.

By the end of the month the family was gone and Bobby had a new last name.  Everyone was happy and none of their relatives asked any questions but simply accepted Bobby as one of them.

The same thing happened when they met Jimmy.  He was younger and had burn marks on his arms and scars on his back.  They moved again and things went quite smoothly, since they knew what they were doing this time.

The three brothers got along famously and their new neighbors said that they never met such lovely boys.  They were polite, well mannered and very helpful.  Mrs. Smith, a rather elderly woman, said that Bobby always helped her carry her groceries, if he saw her coming down the street.  She said that he had pulled some weeds from her flower bed without her ever saying a word.

No one ever looked for the boys or, if they did, no one ever found them.  Matt and Clarise were delighted with their children and their children were grateful and delighted to be their children.

Years went by, “too quickly”, laughed Clarise, and the boys became men.  I should say the brothers became men because they were brothers in every sense of the word.  They graduated from college and married.  Matt and Clarise became grandparents and their grandchildren were given their names.  The boys were loving and generous fathers and husbands.  They had learned the difference between love and hate at an early age and vowed never to be anything but kind.

Matt died in his sleep one night and everyone celebrated his life, with tears and stories about his twisted sense of humor and his inability to hammer a nail into anything, without bending it.  All of the children offered their home to Clarise, who gratefully declined, saying that she was happy where she was.

Everyone called her everyday, food was brought to her door, and she was invited for dinner four times a week.  She often refused but that never stopped her boys from asking again and again.

A small party was held in honor of Clarise’s eightieth birthday.  Bobby and Jimmy both stood in front of the guests, with tears running down their faces and told how their lives were saved by their wonderful parents, Matt and Clarise.  They asked those present to help children who are being tortured by their parents, so they can have safe and loving lives as well.  They waved Billy to the stage and he said that they were starting a home, called, Connely‘s Safe Haven, for kids who had no where else to go and that was their gift to their mother on this special night.

Clarise was overwhelmed by the outpouring of love from her boys.  She kissed and hugged them.  She told them how they had given her so much joy and that she would steal them again and never look back.  They knew that she would and now they would do the same thing for kids who were being abused.

Clarise crossed over a few months later.  She had written a letter to each of the boys telling them that biology had nothing to do with parents and their children…it was all about love and nothing more.  They knew that to be true.




Post Script:

The Connely‘s Safe Haven is a great success.  Matt and Clarise’s picture hangs in the hallway and everyone who enters the building and asks for help, eventually hears the story about how the boys became brothers.  Classes are given to anyone who wishes to attend.  Classes about kindness, about the role that men played in the lives of their loved ones and in society as a whole.  Classes about control, about violence.  Classes about being a father, a husband and a good person.  The classes are for boys and girls alike, because girls need to learn that they should not take abuse from anyone they know and that life doesn’t have to be that way.  Not everyone is helped because they stay at Connely‘s, but the brothers never intended to help everyone.  Their goal is to help as many as they can and that is a goal they are meeting with flying colors.


See Original

by hitandrun1964

But He Only…

It’s hard when sheltered little girls start to grow up and get interested in boys, and boys return the interest.  You only want to really talk about positive things with your daughter, because she’s your little girl and you cannot imagine adult types of things happening to her.

Then it’s time for the first date, and she’s excited and going on and on about how good looking he is, and how sweet he was when he asked her out, and you’re thinking “Good.  Because that’s what my daughter deserves.”  Not that you’ve told her that.  She should know that.

She goes out on the date and he’s a perfect gentleman, and everything is storybook.  She’s so happy she’s giggling as she goes about the house, talking on her cell phone to her girlfriends.

After about a month of dating, he asks her to go with him to a dance.  She’s very excited and “I can have a new dress, right?  Can I have a new dress?  Can we go shopping, Mom, please?”  And of course, the answer is Yes.

You go shopping with her, and you find the perfect dress: it covers in all the right places; it’s something your own mother would have approved of for you, and she looks beautiful in it.  So, you figure, that everything is fine.

The night of the dance, he picks her up wearing a tux, has a corsage for her and promises you and your husband that he will have her home promptly at midnight.

You’re confident in him, because he’s never broken a curfew in the month that they’ve been dating.

He returns her home at 12:05, but that’s hardly worth mentioning.  She comes in and she’s happy, she says she’s happy and says she’s tired and wants to go to bed.  You wish her a good night’s sleep and off she goes.

In the morning, when she awakens, she calls her girlfriends, and tells them that he pushed her last night.  He got upset because, while he was getting punch for her, a boy from her Chemistry class came over and was talking to her about the last lab they’d had, and how crazy their teacher is.  She was laughing with the boy, because she agreed.  Her boyfriend, as he was walking back to her with the punch in hand, saw her laughing and talking with this other boy.  The lab partner excused himself and walked away when her boyfriend returned.

Her boyfriend asked: “Who was that?  What did he want?”

She replied: “Oh, nothing we were just talking about Chemistry.”

He accused: “You were laughing.  Looked like you were having a good time.”

She told him it was no big deal, and then his face darkened and he pushed her.

She didn’t fall to the floor or anything, but she felt scared.  He had never been anything but gentle with her, until last night.

Another phone call comes in to her cell phone; it’s her boyfriend, she has to talk to him.

He’s sorry.  He shouldn’t have pushed her.  He wants to make it up to her by taking her to the movies tonight.

She says, yes, and gets ready.

You notice that she’s all bubbly and happy again, and wonder what the dark cloud had been that you’d noticed earlier, while your daughter was on the phone to her friends.  Maybe it was just those teenage hormones.

You don’t ask.

She goes to the movies and they have a wonderful time.

About a week goes by, and she’s walking down the hall in school, with a bunch of her classmates — boys and girls.  One of the boys is her Chemistry lab partner.  Her boyfriend is looking for her, and he sees her having fun with all of these people, and with that one boy from the dance, laughing and talking with her.

He can’t see anything else but the just the two of them.  Laughing.  Together.  Very together.

He walks up and grabs her and drags her away from everyone else.  He’s holding her arm so tightly, as he pulls her to her locker to talk, that he leaves bruises.

“You’re hurting me!  Stop!”

He begins to rant.  He accuses her of cheating on him with her lab partner.

She’s confused; her lab partner is just a friend, she doesn’t know why he’s upset.  And he’s hurting her.  She tries to pull away.

His hand reaches back and slaps her face, and calls her a whore.

Nothing like this has ever happened to her before.  She doesn’t know what to think or what to do.

She tells him to leave her alone, and she stalks off to class with her arm hurting and her face red, still feeling the handprint.

During class, she’s distracted, thinking about what happened.  How could this have happened to her?  Why would he do this? He’s always been so gentle, so charming.

And she thinks, she must have done something wrong.  He said she had, she shouldn’t have been talking to those kids, that boy.  She didn’t mean to be doing anything wrong.  But that’s what upset him, so she must have been doing something wrong.  Right?

Over the next few weeks, she pulls away from her friends, gradually and steadily.  Her grades go down a little bit, but not enough for her teachers to worry, to call her parents.

You don’t know.

Then, it’s spring.  She comes down for breakfast with a turtleneck on.  It’s a beautiful, warm spring day.  You ask her why the turtleneck?  It’s a beautiful morning!

“I’m cold,” you’re told, tersely.

She’s running late, she doesn’t want to talk, and she hurries out the door before you can ask anything more.

She’s running from herself, but you don’t know that.  She’s running from a situation that she just can’t understand.  She’s afraid, and you can almost see that, but you can’t understand why.

What you don’t know is, the night before, on their last date, her loving boyfriend tried to choke her.  The turtleneck is covering the bruises on her neck.  She knows you would never allow her go see him again if you knew.

But he loves her.  He told her he did; well, after he choked her.

And she loves him.  Well, usually.

She wants to ask one of her old girlfriends if this had ever happened to them.  But it was embarrassing.  What if it hadn’t happened to them?  What if they thought it was her fault, if they knew she did something wrong?

She can’t talk to you.  You’ve never talked about anything like this.  You’d never understand.

She decides to just keep the information to herself.

Six more months go by.  He asks her to go steady. She eagerly says yes, but there’s a little voice inside that’s saying, “Run.  Run.”

He tells her that now, she will be His.  And no one can every interfere with them.  He’ll take care of her, she won’t need anyone else, because she has him.

Several more months pass.  They have a horrific argument and your little girl comes home.

Her face looks like pulp.  He punched her this time, and she cannot hide this from you.

He had the right to do it, he said, because she belongs to him.  They were going steady, after all.

You see her.  “What happened?” you ask, and for the first time in months, she tells the truth.

But she still thinks it’s her fault.  He always says she’s stupid and ungrateful and a burden to him, and she’s lucky he loves her at all.

But he does love her.  He says.  Between the punches.

“Do you love him, this boy?” you ask.

“I..I think so,” she says, and she starts to cry.  “I don’t know,” she admits and you hold her.

“Mom, I’m scared.”

And your heart breaks.



This young girl has found herself in a spot many young girls find themselves in.  They think that abuse is only broken bones or going to the hospital.  That’s never happened to her.  He only pushes.  Only shoves.  Only yells. He’s only REALLY hit her once.

What these girls don’t understand is that a slap, a push, a shove, twisting her arm, punching her face; belittling and calling her names; separating her from her friends — isolating, it’s called — it’s all abuse, battering.

They don’t understand that they are in danger, and this one person is the person they should be terrified of, and should get away from.

Hopefully, after talking to a counselor with or without her parents, and dating some other young men who treat her with the respect to which all young women are entitled, she will learn that she did not deserve the violence her now ex-boyfriend introduced to her life.

Hopefully, in the future, the men that she picks will not be abusers, and she will not spend years of her life living in violence in fear.


But  you could have helped, long before it started.  You could have talked to your daughter, let her know with words and actions that she IS special, and worthy of love.  You could have told her that no one ever has the right to push her, or shove her or call her names, and if they do, she should always come to you.  That you will always be there, and you will always listen, and that you would never think…

She deserved it.

Because she never could.

Because NO ONE ever deserves to abused.



Barbara Mattio


love is not abuse



This is what our culture thinks of women…our culture ALLOWS this to happen…it’s built into the system.


Photo from public domain

*  According to the U.S. Surgeon General, domestic violence is the leading cause of injury to women in the United States.

*  The American Medical Association estimates that their American male partners assault 2 million American women each year.

*  The U.S. Department of Justice estimates that 95% of the victims of domestic violence are women.

*  A WOMAN IS BEATEN EVERY 15 SECONDS IN THE UNITED STATES (Bureau of Justice Statistics, Report to the nation on Crime and Justice.  The Data.  Washing DC Offic of Justice Program, US Dept. of Justice, Oct 1983)

*  35% of all emergency room calls are a result of domestic violence.

*  Of those who abuse their partner, well over 65% also physically and/or sexually abuse the children.

*  Each day…4 women die as a result of abuse.

*  Each day…3 children die as a result of abuse.

This is the tip of the iceberg.  There are pages of stats on this issue.  OUR CULTURE ALLOWS THIS TO HAPPEN.  OUR CULTURE CARES SO LITTLE FOR THE LIVES OF WOMEN AND CHILDREN THAT THE SYSTEM IS SET UP TO ACCOMMODATE THE MEN WHO DO  IT.  Women and children are beaten, raped, tortured and killed EVERY SINGLE DAY, and what is being done about it?

Many women are taught that they DESERVE to be abused.  That they ASKED FOR IT.  That they are worthless and are “LUCKY to have HIM.”  WOMEN AND CHILDREN ARE DYING, EVERYDAY, AT THE HANDS OF MEN.  ALL WOMEN ARE IN DANGER ALL THE TIME!  Women are kept poor and dependent and that feeds into the entire problem.  This is done ON PURPOSE.

Violence is happening on college campuses, on the street, the running path, in bathrooms, parking lots and anywhere a woman may be.  VIOLENCE IS A WAY OF LIFE FOR WOMEN.  WOMEN LIVE IN A WAR ZONE AND THE “ENEMY” IS EVERYWHERE.  THE PEOPLE THEY LIVE WITH, WORK WITH, ARE RELATED TO, NEIGHBORS, EVERY MALE THEY SEE.  Women are FORCED to live in constant fear.  They are never safe.  Big, strong men BEAT HELPLESS WOMEN AND CHILDREN…women and children who can’t fight back.

THIS IS OUR CULTURE.  What are we going to do about it? How many more women and children have to die before action is taken AGAINST THE MEN WHO BEAT AND KILL THEM?  What kind of life do you think the woman in the above photograph has?  A man did this to her and once it’s been done, stats show that it will happen more often and be more destructive.  Nice life…welcome to the world of millions and millions of women.


See Original

by hitandrun1964


National Domestic Violence Awareness Month


Hard fist slams gentle face in reeling, burning pain

with blackened jaw and broken heart she flees

hides soul and flesh from no love man.


Chess 10/11/13

If you are the victim of domestic violence or know some who is, please contact the

National Domestic Violence Hotline at  1−800−799−7233 or 1-800-787-3224 (TTY) or at:


You can also email me if you wish to speak with a survivor.



October, in case you didn’t know, is National Domestic Violence Awareness Month AND National Bullying Prevention Month. It is sad that these issues need months set aside to talk about them but I’m glad for whatever light can be shone. I personally think these are issues that we should talk about all the time…until they no longer exist. Truthfully, talk alone isn’t enough. Each of us needs to take action as well. I shouldn’t have to tell anyone that they shouldn’t hurt other people, right? Yet, look around.

It goes beyond that of course… not only should you not hurt people (yourself or others) or participate with those who do, you also shouldn’t be a silent bystander. If you cannot get personally involved…at the very least say something to those who can.

IF, you know someone who is being abused, speak up.

Remember, the smallest action on your part could make a life and death difference.

IF, you know someone who is an abuser, speak up.

One of the ways we can make a difference is by not accepting this behavior. We have to let the perpetrators know this is not ok. When friends and family turn a blind eye this makes both the abuser and the abused feel that what is happening is acceptable. Break the cycle. Educate yourself and please educate your children.

“The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.” -Edmund Burke

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Wordifull Melanie