Victim

By Darren Moxam

Victim is a story about three individual relationships. 1) Spousal Abuse 2) Drug Addiction 3) Infidelity. Without giving too much away it is certainly a tear jerker and will relate with many different people whether they are in the church or out. With a God driven background it will show many upheavals that a man or woman of Christ has to go thr

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookTrail Publishing
• Release date: Jan 10, 2020
• ISBN: 9781951505264

Darren Moxam

Darren Moxam is a Northwest London writer of relationship-based stories, inspiring quotes, plays, and poetry. His first book, Let My Soul Be Heard, is currently averaging five-star ratings. Website: www.darrenmoxam.com Twitter: d_nero02 Facebook: Darren Moxam / Author Darren Moxam E-mail: [e-mail]

Book preview

Acknowledgements

I would personally like to thank my Lord Jesus Christ for giving me the ability to write, and although I am far from perfect, I hope to see you in all your perfect form one day.

Secondly I would like to thank all those who have supported my writing throughout the years and the publishers for making this all possible.

A special thank you to model/actor/writer Portia Freno (www.portiafreno.com), as well as Sheetal Anand for the constant proofreading

For further information, please visit www.darrenmoxam.com.

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life

—John 3:16, King James Version

‘One’s dignity may be assaulted, vandalized and cruelly mocked, but it can never be taken away unless it is surrendered.’ Michael J fox

Sarah

I never thought I’d go through something like this; I never thought it was my portion. I always thought God had me, but now I admit to losing faith. I’ve prayed for my survival many times and for my husband to be restored, but as the violence escalates, I fear my prayers are getting lost within Nathan’s need for a drink. My husband used to be the kindest of men, holy and considerate. These were the major traits that drew me to him, but I was unaware of his dark cloud—a flesh-bound spirit that overpowers his true self-preservation. He simply becomes a different man. It’s as if an intruder dwells inside him, an unrecognisable spirit not of God. I’ve prayed so many times that we’ll make it through these dark hours. As it says in the Bible, ‘Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding’ (Proverbs 3:5, King James Version). And I do trust in Him, but how much faith can a woman have? I’m scared for my life every time Nathan lays his hands on me, as he beats me into submission until I curl up like a little ball in the corner of our bedroom, crying my eyes out whilst he shouts obscenities at me.

We both came from a church background, and we eventually found each other in church. It was like love at first sight. Have you ever met someone, and based on first impressions, you knew that person would play a prominent role in your life? Well that’s how I felt about Nathan, and although he is strikingly handsome, that wasn’t what got me sprung on him. His innocence and mannerisms were endearing, and I know in my heart that, somewhere in him even now, that man I first met still exists. That’s probably why I fight so hard to get him back on track, to get us back on track. I know a part of him wants to change. I know in my heart God speaks to him. Sometimes in the early hours, I hear him praying in the bathroom for forgiveness, asking God to release him from his anger. But the temptation of the bottle hinders his judgement, and until he truly submits to God and not the bottle, as I’ve told him, he won’t be released from his pain. Sometimes I have to remind him how he used to be, how he used to feel about his faith, and how he used to love me. I tell him that I want my husband back, and in our moments of clarity and solidarity, in his moment of soberness, we often cry together. I love Nathan. I really do. I will never give up on him, and when I pray that he will be healed from his troubles, those are the moments I often hear God speaking. I believe in His words.

‘Sarah, Sarah, I’m so, so sorry. I can’t believe I’ve done it again,’ he says to me in the apologetic tone he always adopts, as though he knows his wrong and is making his attempt at drawing my empathy towards his behaviour. His dark unblemished face creates a look that asks me to feel sorry for him—a look that, in most cases, I fall victim to.

‘Well, you have, Nathan,’ I say to him, my look no longer tolerant. I am unwilling to give him the sympathy he craves. He reads my facial expressions. He doesn’t like this, so he plays the pity card once more.

‘I know. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,’ he says.

I’m not buying it however. I’ve had enough. ‘Harder than it needs to be? Look at my face, Nathan!’ I respond. I can’t believe his audacity, his words, as though I’m supposed to feel guilty about being hard on him. What am I supposed to do, act as though everything is okay? This man who claims to love me abuses me, beats on me. I’ve grown up hearing stories like this but never thought I’d be a part of one of them. I used to think only white women went through things like this. The moment a man lifts his hands to a black woman those same hands get cut off. That’s what I was brought up believing.

‘And again, I said I’m sorry,’ he responds.

‘And that’s supposed to make it better? It’s not as if the word sorry will somehow heal me. Will sorry take away the pain you put me through? Will sorry undo all the times we have been here—at this point, this time, this space? Will sorry