Breaking the Chains. William T Blake
feel a little magic right now, must be time.”
Maggie just smiled at her unsurprising and all so predictable husband. Chris led her up the stairs.
Chapter 9
- "This time it will be different" thought Maggie, "I won’t let him anywhere near me." -
“How long have you been feeling sick like this?” asked the Doctor.
“About a week now” said Maggie “just out of the blue, woke up feeling nauseated and had to rush to the bathroom.”
After conducting an array of tests, the doctor announced to Maggie that she was in fact in the early stages of pregnancy, “about 8 - 9 weeks” he said. Maggie was astounded, “pregnant, how…how can I be?”
Ivan, who had been Maggie’s doctor for a number of years held a special place in her life, gave a slight smile while saying “Maggie, you and I both know how and we know this shouldn’t have happened, especially with your background but it has. You must decide whether you will carry this child. I will refer you to a trusted associate who can take care of you, either way.”
Maggie left the surgery in a state of shock and dismay as she walked to the bus stop. "Why now?" she asked herself, "after all these years, the tears and the heartache, all the times spent waiting, hoping, and then the disappointments. Maggie felt bitterness tug at her heart as she absent mindedly let her hand rest on her stomach, knowing that finally, after all the years the child she longed for was now growing inside her.
Arriving home she picked up the telephone and dialed Chris's work number. Still in a state of shock she told him the news. He was at first speechless but then, as only he could, accepted that life had just dealt them another hand. Maggie was initially infuriated with his reaction having expected some sort of emotional response. Her anger quickly subsided as she thought to herself, “it’s just typical of Chris and he will never be any different. It's what makes him who he is.” Then suddenly in a moment of horror, a thought struck her. Had she been involved with anyone at that time, she couldn’t clearly remember but then felt sure she hadn’t.
Maggie made herself a hot cup of tea and sat on a comfortable, easy chair with her mind drifting back, back into the times of her childhood.
As she drifted she could still sense the smell of stale tobacco and alcohol on his breath, the things that were said, all of the horrible words. She could picture her mother leaning paralytically drunk against the wall, watching, knowing what was happening to her little girl but doing nothing to stop it. How many times and how many different men she could not remember nor did she want to. Somehow the smells always seemed the same. Most vivid in her memory was the repulsive odours and the pain inflicted on her young, immature body and the horrible sounds. The grunts and the groans, the foul words, always present, they never left her.
By the time Maggie reached thirteen years of age her innocence was long gone. A procession of men had come and gone as her mother found new drinking partners to share her life. None ever lasted for long and while some were kind, others were not. Maggie had learnt to accept whatever came her way and to make the most of the special uncles her mother brought home.
This means of survival lasted until her fifteenth birthday. Something changed in her that day, something that enabled her to say “Enough is enough.” Perhaps it had been the simple normality of the day.
Her mother had once been a stunning looking woman, the type that men would drool over, a renowned swim wear model in high demand for photo shoots and catwalk assignments. However, she made the mistake of becoming involved with a married man who was a powerful industry identity and after a short affair found herself to be pregnant with Maggie. When she announced her pregnancy, he had denied her any support, telling her in no uncertain terms to “get rid of it." Furthermore, Maggie's mother made a second and perhaps more fatal mistake by threatening exposure to his wife and business associates. In response he had her blackballed and she never worked in the industry again. People she thought were her friends and others who were industry associates disowned her and she was left penniless with nowhere to go and no way to support a baby.
Not long after Maggie was born and out of necessity, her mother began working in seedy dance clubs. It was there she developed alcohol and drug habits that would eventually see her turn to prostitution to support herself and her child. Maggie's childhood passed all too quickly as she developed early, inheriting her mother’s physique, poise and beauty.
Drifting back into the present, Maggie thought to herself, "I swore I would never become my mother and yet here I am, several bottles of wine consumed almost every night, the affairs, am I really that different. Is this what life is meant to be?"
Once again wandering back in time, Maggie recalled the day of her fifteenth birthday. It had been a wonderful afternoon, the best of her life. She had celebrated by inviting school friends to a party she herself had organized. It was rare to invite friends to her home and a novelty to receive gifts. They had played games, listened to and danced to pop music and giggled as they shared stories. They feasted on pizza, cake and fizzy drink. One of her friend’s mothers had baked the most amazing birthday cake. It was a jam sponge, covered with bright pink icing and finished off with the wording ‘Happy 15th Birthday, Maggie.’ A tiny, ballerina doll perched on top had completed the festive look. The house was filled with joy and laughter. For a brief moment Maggie experienced the wonderful and simple innocence of being a child.
Maggie saved the ballerina doll, it was a precious treasure. The joy she felt on the day overwhelmed her heart, a feeling she never wanted to surrender. The doll would always be a symbol of the happiness she felt.
All too soon it came to an end and with the last of her friends gone, Maggie cleaned and tidied the house, washing dishes and sweeping floors. While she worked her mother and latest boyfriend sat at the table drinking. Nighttime came and her mother drunk and high on drugs passed out on a lounge chair.
"This time it will be different" thought Maggie, "I won’t let him anywhere near me."
Later, she showered and washed herself, trying to scrub away all he had done. In tears Maggie made a decision, she went to her room where she packed her clothing into a small duffel bag. Gathered her few little treasures and adding her precious ballerina doll to her belongings. Stuffing the small amount of money she’d managed to save into her coat pocket, she ran away from home. Maggie was determined she would never return no matter what, and she never did. At just fifteen years of age she was on her own, no one to care for her, nowhere to go, very little money and not the slightest idea as to what would happen in the future. She was finally free, her feelings elated, she had little understanding of what lay before her and therefore no fear of what she may have to face. Whatever it may be it couldn't be any worse for her than what she was leaving behind.
Chapter 10
- Now, suddenly she understood that men could be the victims of their own desires. They did not necessarily have the power over her but her over them. -
After leaving home Maggie elected to travel by public transport until she reached the outer areas of the city limits. She then sought out a safe place to hide, knowing she would need to lay low for several days. Her conclusion being that if her mother cared sufficiently enough to call the authorities then they would in all probability search for her, keeping an eye on major transport routes. Better she stay in one place and keep hidden until it was safe for her to make a move. The time spent in hiding was wretched, it had rained soaking her through, she’d been cold and hungry and at times frightened. The abandoned warehouse she chose, barely had a roof let alone walls to keep out the miserable weather. Other down and outs, the city's vagrants also called this place home. She had to be on her guard at all times, never getting more than a few moments sleep. Despite her fears, everyone seemed to keep to themselves. It was as if there was an unwritten law and she survived without ever having been approached by anyone. Facing all this, her resolve never wavered. She was not going back.
“How old are you and where are you off too?” asked the truck driver. He stopped to pick Maggie up several kilometers back as she had hitchhiked along the highway.