Through Different Eyes

By Hasina Brinson

This is the story of a woman's fight to overcome domestic violence at the hands of her lover. Her sanity, and the lives of her children depend on her success.
What happens when young love changes into something foreign and scary? Angel must find a way to be fearless, and love herself enough to walk away.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Oct 3, 2020
• ISBN: 9781716536342

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THROUGH DIFFERENT EYES

Through Different Eyes Copyright 2018 HMBrinson.

All rights Reserved.

No part of this work may be may be used or reproduced in any manner without the express written permission of the author, except as a quotation in critical articles or reviews. For information, address HM Brinson, BOX 530232 Miami, FL 33153.

www.hmbrinson.com

PROLOGUE

HINDSIGHT…

A few days ago, my children, my niece, and I were in my truck sitting in the parking lot at the neighborhood drug store. The children were in the back seat playing and laughing with each other as usual. My niece and I were trying to decide if it would be better for all of us to go into the store or if I should run in alone. Just as I reached for the door handle I noticed a man limping past the car. He was one of those whom you normally see on a busy city street. If you’re out and about you will spot one or smell him first if you happen to be downwind of him. He is the guy who looks like he just woke up and rolled out of the gutter with stains on his clothes and big yellow teeth. He smiles at you as though he is a good friend of yours right before either asking you for a donation, offering to wash your windshield, or worse, adding you to the conversation that he is having with his imaginary friend. Either way he is a person that many people avoid; the red eyes, the unkempt hair, beard, and the stained clothing … not to mention a stench that announces his presence long after he is departed.

My youngest son watched this derelict approach, and as he moved past the front of the truck my little one smiled and said, Hi daddy! This was immediately mirrored by my eldest son, Hi Daddy, where are you going? My daughter, the oldest, and clearly the boss, found this exchange amusing.  She began to giggle and added her own, Hi, Daddy to the mix. My niece and I both turned to watch this man stumble off down the walk towards the street, and I realized that he was wearing similar clothing to what my kids were used to seeing their father in when they did happen to see him: khaki pants, a long black t-shirt, and an intoxicated grin. The stranger’s hair was uncombed and going in different directions as though he had twisted the front left corner of it himself with his fingers. The hair strand twisting was a nervous tick that many of the young guys from this county usually adopted by the time they were fifteen or so, the end result being one section of hair that was twisted into thin snakes of varying length. The rest of the hair, in the case of the stumbling and grinning stranger, was a tangled mass of grime.

At first my niece and I laughed about the very idea of the kids looking at this person and calling him daddy: a derelict who clearly was intoxicated and wearing dirty and stained clothes. I laughed to keep my mind off of how sad it was to know that this is the vision that my children had of their father. In their eyes daddy was a disheveled stumbling man who looked and smelled as though most of his time is spent wandering the streets, drinking, panhandling, and grinning to himself, all the things that would make passerby avoid him. I felt as though things had come full circle in my life. The stranger in the parking lot looked just as my ex looked five years ago after I’d left him and returned the first time. The red eyes, dirty clothes, and all-around unkempt look hit a little too close to home for me. I realized that having subjected my children to this man and his antics had been more harmful than helpful.  I had been a fool in the name of trying to make sure my children knew him. All because I didn’t want to be branded the bitter baby mama.

I left my boyfriend multiple times over an eight-year period. By the time my change was permanent, he and I had three kids…This is the part of surviving abuse that people claim to understand the least.

So, I want to explain what happened to me. I am not trying to make excuses for any of my decisions, but as I go through this healing process, I feel it is important to explain. There was a definite danger in staying where I was, but there was a comfort and a complacency in knowing whom I was with even though he was quite mean sometimes. He did not start out as a mean, brooding, aggressive, or violent person. This is not to say that there were no trouble signs. There were signs and flags and I chose to ignore them. This was a mistake that almost cost me my life, but the reasons why I stayed had very little to do with logic.

One

I was first introduced to Eric Allen Jr by a mutual friend, Tabitha Young. I had known Tabitha, or Tab, as I sometimes called her for short, for most of my life. We had grown up going to the same church, and we were the best of friends. When we were teenagers we would sometimes go over to Bayside for an early dinner and to hang out. She was a year older than I was and had access to her brother’s car. We would sometimes go over to South Beach after dinner and walk and talk and people watch. This year we were hanging out as much as we could because as seniors in high school we were getting used to our new found freedom.  We were also using every opportunity to enjoy ourselves before graduation when the real-world choices of work, college, or trade school would set in. Tab was looking at moving to Atlanta from Miami. I was looking forward to just being away from home. I really hadn’t decided whether I would pursue an education right away, or work for a year, or move out of state to stay with my father for a while until I figured out what to do with my life.

We were at the Bubba Gump Shrimp Co. for dinner on this evening. We had started coming here after the popularity of the movie Forrest Gump made us curious. This was a place we made it to every time we could. Eric was chosen as a good fourth because Tab didn’t want me to be a third wheel on her date with her girlfriend Dion. None of us were old enough to be club hopping so we stuck to the places where teens and families hung out. There were restaurants, merchants, and cool things to do like shoot pool by the water’s edge, or dance.  There was even a party boat that made trips out on the bay for 45 minutes of dancing and a cool light show. Every weekend couples would come down to enjoy the scenery and the food.

Angel, Tab said nervously, I didn’t mention this to you before we left the house, but we are double dating tonight. I was sitting in the passenger seat of her ride for the evening, her brother’s Nissan Sentra, listening to music and looking out the window. Upon hearing her announcement I put my hand to my forehead and didn’t respond. I was only slightly annoyed by the suggestion of a blind date. Tab had decided that she wanted me to enjoy this evening with someone. In her eyes everyone deserved to be happy, and it was her job to be match-maker. Thus far I had survived without falling victim to her antics, but it seemed the ball had finally rolled in my direction. My date, our fourth, was waiting for us outside of the restaurant when we arrived.

Eric was tall and slim with dark brown skin and even darker brown eyes. His hair was curly and cut short. He had the curliest lashes and the fullest lips I had ever seen up close on a dude. He was cute, and seemed a little nervous. He was dressed casually in brown slacks and a polo shirt. He walked up to me and stood looking down into my eyes for a few seconds. Oh my, I thought, a man I can wear my heels with. This thought made me smile. He stared down into my eyes and smiled back.

What’s up? You look nice, he finally said.

Hi, I replied, thank you. I certainly hoped he would not be boring. I had packed a book in my bag just in case. He seemed to be the quiet type, but he loosened up after a while. Several times during dinner I said something to him that made him laugh out loud. He had a nice smile with beautiful straight teeth. He also had one gold tooth in front, with an ‘E’ on it. It was a little 1978, but it didn’t take away from his