I Can’t Hear the Music

By H. Washingten

I Can't Hear the Music is a riveting drama fiction that pulls you into the world of Trisha, a resilient woman fighting to reclaim her life. This abuse survivor story hits close to home, for it is more than just fiction – it reflects the author's struggles and triumphs. It stands as an incredible testament to the power of endurance, crafted by an author who herself was a single mother for a decade and a survivor of rape.

This is one of those realistic fiction books that will make you feel deeply and intensely. It beautifully intertwines the themes of a psychological drama and the raw reality of living in an abusive environment. Trisha, our protagonist, lives in modern times but finds herself entrapped by Leyon's emotional, verbal, and mental abuse. But within her, a fire burns – a fierce determination to escape and to give her daughter a better life.

To her daughter, she is more than just a mother. She's a survivor, a beacon of hope that even in the darkest nights, dawn is inevitable. The hope that Trisha symbolizes is not just for her daughter. It's for the countless women who find themselves in similar circumstances. Women who are looking for help for abused women, those who want to understand how it's possible to stand firm amidst chaos and abuse.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Mar 22, 2021
• ISBN: 9781663201171

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Copyright © 2020 H. Washingten.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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ISBN: 978-1-6632-0116-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6632-0117-1 (e)

iUniverse rev. date: 12/15/2020

CONTENTS

Acknowledgements

Prologue

Trisha

Promise

Billy

Trisha

Promise

Trisha

Billy

Promise

Leyon

Joe

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

F irst, I want to thank God. He is the one who has given me this talent. It is because of you that I can do this with joy. Thank you to my husband who encourages me, let me cry, hold my hand, tell me the truth when I don’t want to hear it. I LOVE YOU! Thank you, to my daughter for being my motivation. I am thankful for God giving you to me. I love you so much. It seems so unreal to love someone this much unconditionally. To my parents, thank you for all you’ve done. To my family, far, near, and extended I love you. I am thankful, grateful to everyone who has encouraged and sown into my life. I thank you all!

PROLOGUE

E veryone does not look at life the same but love don’t judge who you are. I count that a blessing at times. Most of all I am glad God still loves me after all the things I have done. The Bible states He only can judge because no one is perfect. Jesus said who without sin cast the first stone. I’m glad I can’t! When I get the eyes of ‘you are below me’, I ask the question who made you judge?

My name is Promise Halley Goodman. I was fourteen when my life took a drastic change. My passion for music went with my innocence and childhood until I learned how to take my passion for music to express my pain. My mom was my best friend. It was me and her for a long time before we moved from South Carolina to North Carolina. My father didn’t treat my Mom and me like we should have been treated. Yes, he did work and provide. He was an emotional earthquake though. That is the best way I can explain it. Mom got tired of my Dad. She finally left when I was seven. I had no respect for my Dad at all. When they were living together my Mom made me call him Dad. When I wasn’t around Mom I called him Arnold. Yes, when I learned his name, I laughed so hard I felt my stomach burning. By the way, he answered to me calling him Arnold. When I had to stay with Arnold during his time which was every other weekend, he would always take me to visit my grandma, Halley. Grandma was glad that Mom left Dad. She would apologize to me and Mom when she’d see us because she felt she went wrong somewhere with Dad. Grandma would say I did the best I knew how. During my time being a single Mom was looked upon as shameful, we were made to be ashamed. Please, tell me where young girls respect for themselves has gone to?

This was a ritual question. I couldn’t answer because I was still learning myself. If Grandma was still with me I could answer that question now. I enjoyed my visits with Grandma. As