TESTIMONIES OF WOMEN WITH EXPERIENCE OF VIOLENCE FOR SCREAM OF THE BUTTERFLY
“I was sitting on the bed next to mum. My father had taken the shotgun from the chimney
and shot into the mattress next to us. Mum ran away hiding in the bakery behind the bread machine.
I ran after her, stood in front of her with my arms open and when my father came in I shouted “Shoot”!
My mum, my dad and violence, I never knew otherwise.
There was never certainty, when he was drunk there was horror. He smashed everything, including my mum. Her story was one of black eyes and all kind of bruises, tears and sunglasses, yes, even in bad weather or in the shop.
I was almost 14 years, heard father ranting and mother crying, I got out of bed, I was fed up!.... When I appeared in their doorway, my father shoot my mother dead.
Eight bullets in her heart.”
----
“Their fights, whether drunk or not,
always resulted in severe violence towards her.
She was stomped, strangled, head-butted until her nose broke,
her ribs were broken.
He strangled her until she was unconscious, disappeared and left her behind lying in her own blood, amongst the shards of everything he had smashed.”
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‘”A man with two faces, intelligent and hardworking but eager to drink, evil and belligerent on the other side. I didn’t realize he was a psychopathic narcissist. For over 25 years I stayed with him.
He became increasingly aggressive, with words and actions. Broken ribs, nose, tailbone, black eyes, ears, tears, strangled,...”
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“He was a very charming man, a musician, a cheerful guy.... always up for a party.
He was good at that, but once at home it was a totally different picture... and that was very strange.
I fell in love with him because he had such an open mind, and then when you live together and get married all of a sudden I became the housewife.
I had to stay inside, he commanding I should do this, I shouldn’t do that…
One time it was really serious, but yes, I'm not a saintly person either, I also liked to go out, have a beer once in a while. One time we were in a bar and we got into a fight about his pullover he had lost and I had to go and find it. I was enjoying myself dancing and I told him to do it himself! And he got annoyed, and I left and drove home by car and left him there. I shouldn't have done that. I was already asleep when he came home; he woke me up, grabbed me, stomped and punched me.
I didn't tell anyone back then, I didn't dare. Everyone would say it was my own fault. Not even my father, who had initially warned me about this relationship, but I didn't want to listen to him, I knew better; I was in love and besides, I was still a teenager at the time.”
