Summary

The narrative depicts a person's intense fear and survival tactics when faced with an abusive partner's arrival.

Abstract

The article describes the harrowing experience of someone who is living in fear of their abusive partner. The individual, likely a woman based on the context, is in a constant state of panic, which is exacerbated when she hears her partner returning home. She retreats to a corner of her room, her heart racing and body trembling, despite the heat of the day. As her partner enters the room, she struggles to maintain composure, fighting back tears and suppressing her fear to avoid being labeled a 'drama queen.' Her relief is palpable when she manages to greet him normally, and he leaves without incident, marking another moment of survival in a cycle of fear and endurance.

Opinions

The author conveys the intense psychological and physiological stress experienced by victims of abuse.
The use of the term 'drama queen' by the abuser reflects a dismissive attitude towards the victim's emotions and experiences.
The repeated occurrences of such incidents suggest a pattern of abuse and the victim's ongoing struggle to cope with the situation.
The victim's internal monologue and actions reveal a strategy of self-preservation through emotional suppression and outward normalcy.
The author's request for readers to enable email notifications and the subtle call for support through a 'Buy me coffee?' link imply a desire for ongoing engagement and perhaps a plea for help or acknowledgment of her situation.

Panic Mode Activated: The reality of life in abuse

Thump… thump…thump

READ: SHH…15 Thoughts You Shouldn’t Have.

He is at the door.

I run to the corner of the room, just in front of my wardrobe. That is the furthest I can run in the tiny room. I hunch right there. My head is banging!

His keys turn in the lock.

My heart jumps into my throat- thump, thump, thummmmmp, thummmmmmmmmmmmp, th…th…thu…thmmmmmmmp and on and on.

Next comes the sweat. I don’t know where from given as my throat is suddenly very dry. My hands are shivering but the fan is not even on. It is a very hot day in tropical Africa and yet.

He pushes the door in.

My head begins to spin. Or maybe it is the room. I don’t know. I really don’t care. I want to scream but I clamp a damp palm over my mouth holding in the scream. He cannot…he cannot see me like this.

I blink furiously. No no no no no tears. I cannot have wet eyes. Please dear God, no.

“Drama” He calls me whenever I cry. “Drama queen” He would shout at me the times I had let him see a tear rolling down my face.

Not this time. Not today. I hold one damp shivering hand over my mouth and use the other damp shivering hand to hold the side of my face- Hot. I am burning up. A minute ago, I did not have a fever…

His footsteps sound on the floor as he crosses the sitting room towards my room.

I gasp. The air has vanished in the room. hum hum hum my mouth drops open as I try to gulp in air. Hum hum hum over the thump thump th thhhhh thhhhhh thhumping of my heart.

He pushes open my door.

Somehow I am on my feet. A smile plastered on my face. Hand holding hand. I cannot give away anything.

I cannot hear, ‘Drama…drama queen’ one more time.

“Hi” I greet him with my biggest smile yet.

“Hi’ He sends back.

He says nothing else as he turns on his heels and walks away.

I did it. For the tenth time today, I have survived.

Thank you for reading.

My name is Adaobi Okwy. Please turn on Email Notification for my next post. Also, Buy me coffee?