Last year, there were 43,911 domestic violence arrests in California. Domestic violence occurs in one in three families in the U.S. Last week, one of those families was my sister's.
She was fixing dinner when her husband called. He asked what she was doing, said he'd be home soon. Nothing unusual except his speech was a little slurred. She knew he'd been drinking. She grabbed her purse, hustled their daughter into the car and took off. Usually he was fine; but when her husband drank, he could turn mean and unpredictable. Since he'd lost his job, he'd been drinking more. She'd learned it wasn't safe to be home when he came home drunk. A wrong word, a misunderstood glance and he could turn from loving to mean in a heartbeat.
A week ago she'd been working at the computer. He'd startled her when he came into the room. She'd looked up and found herself staring into the barrel of a shotgun. There'd been the usual demands, threats, promises. She'd never been more frightened and still shook when she thought about it, but the moment had passed.
So when he called from the bar, she left. Early the next morning, her daughter safely at school, she went home. Her foot crunched when she walked in the door. She looked down. There was glass on the floor. As she looked across the kitchen floor, there was glass everywhere, mixed with bits of wood from the cabinets and shards of china -- and blood. In shock, she walked from room to room. There was glass and debris and spent shells everywhere. He'd shot up the house. There were holes in the walls and right through the bookcase. There were shells imbedded in the books and sofa cushions. She found the splintered shotgun in the living room where he'd used it to batter the coffee table. There was blood matted into the carpeting. She found her husband, still passed out, in the bedroom, his leg bleeding through his jeans. He'd apparently cut himself in his rampage. She called 911. He came to as the paramedics were strapping him to the gurney.
This time, my sister didn't wait to hear the apologies. The blood on the kitchen tile could have been hers, or her daughter's. This time she went to court and swore out a complaint and got an order of protection, but she knows that might not stop him. The police confiscated his gun, but she knows he can buy or borrow another one. She had the locks changed, but she's worried he'll kick the door in or bust a window. She's decided to file for divorce, but she worries that he'll get angry. She's afraid he'll come after her, or their daughter. Last night, she packed a bag and got a wad of cash out of the bank in case she has to flee. She loosened the screen and practiced climbing out of the bedroom window in case he breaks in. She methodically put bullets in her gun and laid it and her cell phone next to the bed. She is afraid.
This is just one small snapshot of domestic violence and the tragedy it leaves in its wake. In California alone, there are more than 43,900 other pictures of domestic abuse, each one tragic.
