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    ProtectHer
    ProtectHer
    ProtectHer
    Ebook79 pages1 hour

    ProtectHer

    By Aynoit Ashor

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Tired of the abuse his mother endures, at the hands of her boyfriend, he gets a gun. After learning to point and shoot he meets his nemesis face-to-face for the final showdown.

    "Sixty-three percent of young men between the ages of 11 and 20 serving time for homicide are in prison for killing their mother's abuser." (SOURCE: KDVA.org, Myths of Domestic Violence: 2008)

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAynoit Ashor
    Release dateDec 26, 2012
    ISBN9781311476142
    ProtectHer
    Author

    Aynoit Ashor

    Aynoit Ashor's personal mission is to empower others to love the life they live  and encourage survivors of interpersonal violence (abuse) to take back power and no longer be victims. Aynoit has worked diligently to expose and increase awareness about the horrors of intimate partner abuse and sexual violence/abuse with her stories, speaking engagements, interviews and appearances. Personal challenges Aynoit has faced are homelessness, domestic and sexual abuse.  Facing these issues sparked a fire in Aynoit and, because of this spark, the Family Secrets series was born.  This series of novellas uncovers issues many would like to ignore or sweep under the rug. Aynoit uses her personal life experiences during her speaking engagements and workshops. Her presentations give a glimpse into her life as survivor of molestation, rape and domestic abuse while leaving the audience, no matter their background, feeling empowered and hopeful. "I had to learn to forgive, not forget. I used to do it the other way around. Once I finally figured it out, I understood what I needed to do to thrive and be happy." ~Aynoit Ashor

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      Book preview

      ProtectHer - Aynoit Ashor

      ProtectHer

      A Novella

      By Aynoit Ashor

      THE ENTIRE COURTROOM watched as I sat quietly in the witness chair. I was so nervous and couldn’t keep my legs from shaking. I looked over at my mom whose head was bowed like she was in prayer. Tears dropped from her cheeks into her lap. I thought of a statistic I read: Sixty- three percent of juvenile males who are incarcerated for murder or homicide are there for killing their mother's abuser.

      I slowly said to her, Mom, it's not your fault. You did all you could do for me. I know you wanted better for me. Her eyes were filled with tears, All mothers want better for their children. I know you didn't have a lot growing up and you wanted me to have the best. But you’re not the only reason why my life changed. There’s a lot that shaped my life and my decisions. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath as I began to tell the court room my story.

      I DIDN’T REALLY MIND the fall or winter for that matter. Some people complained because it was too cold.  I liked the cool Fall air because it always made me feel like things were going to change. This usually happened to people in the Spring.  I guess I felt this way because as a kid my year revolved around school.  Another reason I liked the Fall was because it was full of surprises. It would be cold in the morning, but hot in the afternoon. One week the leaves were green; the next they were red and orange.

      The day we got in his car, it was cold.  Mom and I stood at the bus stop with orange and yellow leaves raining down on us. I looked up at the trees and saw their naked branches. As I breathed in and out, I could see smoke coming out of my mouth. I turned my mouth into a puckered circle. I tried to blow O's like the ones I saw some grown- ups blow out of their mouths when they smoked cigarettes. My O's didn’t work. I shrugged my shoulders, knowing I wasn't defeated. I just needed more practice. I thought about Dad. He always told me to practice everything I did. Practice would make me better.

      I took my favorite comic book from my back pants pocket and sat down on the cold bench. My favorite superhero was stuck in a jam and needed to fight his way out of it. His arch rival always seemed to win at the end of the previous comic. But within two pages of the next month’s comic he was on top. He would fight his way out of his mess any way he could. I loved that about him. He would figure out a way to make things right no matter what.

      I had on my gloves that showed pictures when they got cold. They were my favorite, but their thickness made it hard for me to turn the pages. So I took one off and delicately turned the pages of my newest beloved comic book with the ungloved hand. I looked up at Mom’s pretty, dark chocolate face to be sure she didn’t see me without a glove. I knew she would have fussed at me for taking it off on a cold day. She didn’t notice as she checked her watch impatiently. The frown on her face told me the bus was late.

      That was when this dude drove up in his little silver-blue Omni. His windows were rolled up, but I could still hear Rock Box playing on his car stereo. Mom looked at his car as he pulled up in front of us. I could tell she was not impressed. When his putt-putt finally stopped in front of Mom, he reached over the passenger seat and slowly rolled down the window.

      Hey cutie, I noticed the bus was running late. Where you goin’? When Mom didn't answer, he shouted out the window, Do you need a ride? Mom rolled her eyes and said we were heading home. He continued to raise his voice in an attempt to be heard, There was an accident downtown. I don’t mind taking you where you need to go. Mom looked at her watch and hesitated. She told him she didn’t mind him dropping us off at home. He smiled and got out the car to open the passenger side door for us.

      Mom looked at me and took a deep breath, Get your things together. We’re gonna get a ride home so we don’t have to wait out here in the cold. After hearing her, my mouth hit the floor. She told me to never ride with strangers and I wasn't sure if she knew him or not. Mom always told not to ride with or talk to strangers but she was always talking to people she didn’t know. It seems like those types of rules are different for adults.

      I welcomed the warmth of his heater as we got in the car. My butt got numb from sitting on the cold bus stop bench. Once we were in the car and settled, he started talking slick to my Mom. Yes, I may have only been twelve at the time but, I knew game when I heard it.

      I discreetly looked him up and down, out of the corner of my eye. He was wearing a black leather jacket, white sneakers with black stripes on them and blue jeans. There was something about him that made me not trust him. I couldn't figure it out. They say children have an intuition about them that goes away as they become adults. Mine was kicking in big time.

      He asked about my father, So when was the last time you saw him? Mom told him about the last visit we had with my father. The one when they broke up.

      Mom confronted Dad because he had some broad's name on his visiting list. Dad tried to deny it, but I saw the name there, too. I didn't say anything about seeing it. I knew to stay in my place. If I didn't, they would gang up on me like they always did when I tried to defend the one I knew was right. The more Dad denied her name being on the list, the louder Mom got. It wasn't until a guard threatened to end the visit that she calmed down.

      Once she was done arguing, Dad and I talked about my comic books. The last twenty minutes of the visit was nice. When we left, everyone understood that Mom and Dad had broken up. I actually knew the lady that Dad was cheating with. Her son went to my school. A few times, the lady’s son told me he was my brother. I told him we weren't, but he said we have the same Dad. I really thought he was crazy. Dad never told me he was my brother. I don’t have any brothers or sisters so I know that’s not something Dad would keep from me.  Dad used to take me to their house with him sometimes. So why wouldn't he tell me the boy was

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