"After Isaac left for work, Eloise went upstairs to her children, who had returned to their room. Rollie lay on the bed, crying. Foamy saliva and remnants of vomit still dripped from his mouth. Eloise held him and cried. The other children stood watching, crippled with grief .
"Mattie and Deller, y'all hurry up and get ready for school and help me get these hea' young'uns ready," Eloise mumbled. There was no need to say how sorry she was; her face conveyed more expressively than words.
The children came to the kitchen table to have their breakfast, but when Eloise put the plates before them, they stared with revulsion, their appetites lost. Today, she didn't lecture them about eating their meal. She just let them linger as long as they needed.
After the five elder children left and Eloise was alone with the three toddlers, she forced herself to try and recall when Isaac had become so evil, but no single incident or reason stood out. She fell to her knees and prayed for the day that her children would forgive her for lacking the nerve to stand up to him, the strength to protect them, and the courage to leave someday. Exhausted and still aching from the beating Isaac had given her before turning his rage on Rollie, she drifted into sleep.
Several hours passed before Eloise gained the strength to get up. When she awoke, Charlene, Paulene, and Rollie were huddled next to her, as though her body could protect them. Charlene and Paulene, the one- and two-year-olds, didn't understand why their mother held them so close as she repeated, "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." But little Rollie knew. He understood that his mother wanted nothing more than to protect him from Isaac.
When Isaac returned home from work that evening, the children were already in their room. They had come home from school, done their homework and chores, eaten dinner, and hurried upstairs.
Mattie came downstairs to help her mother clean the kitchen. Isaac sat at the table, eyes buried in his plate.
"Gal, pass me the light bread," he snarled, without looking up at her.
"Yes, Daddy." Mattie fetched the bread out of the cupboard and handed it to him.
While he ate, Mattie snuck glances at him, searching for a hint of remorse, but it seemed that he had none. He sat at the table and ate as though nothing had occurred that morning, as though it were normal to force a three-year-old to eat a skinned rat that had been dead for who knows how long.
Mattie searched for a sign of regret, a hint of kindness. Nothing. She gazed closely to see if he looked disturbed; he did not. She tried to make her eyes penetrate his shirt, skin, and ribcage to see if he still had a heart: she couldn't tell. Isaac finally stood, leaving his plate on the table so Mattie could clean up after him. He looked like a giant to her—a giant who had invaded their home. She finally got up enough nerve to ask the same question she always asked: "Daddy, are you done?" He ignored her and walked out of the kitchen.
Mattie went back upstairs. She glanced at her sisters and brothers to warn them that Isaac had returned.
"Is Isaac still mad?" little Rollie asked when Mattie shut the door behind her.
"I'ont know, he didn't say much. But he wasn't screamin' at Mama like he did this mornin'. I guess he ain't mad no more."
Rollie looked at Mattie innocently. "Can you help me go to the bathroom tonight so I don't wet the bed again?" he asked.
"Rollie, you're gonna have to learn to be a big boy. You know Isaac warned you before about wettin' that bed. You gotta stop drinkin' so much stuff before you go to bed. I'll help you, but you're gonna have to learn on your own, okay?"
"Yes, I'ma try harder," Rollie promised, blinking his eyes as though that would suddenly make him outgrow his problem.That night as Mattie lay down, she tried to block out all that had happened that day. She had long known that things had changed, but it hadn't become fully real to her until she'd witnessed the evil in her father's eyes. She pulled the blanket over her face to shut out the glaring moonlight, wanting nothing more than to fall into a deep sleep and wake up to the father she'd had years ago.
The next morning, they arose to silence. No loud voices, no frightening thumps.
Mattie jumped up and immediately ran over to check the spot that Rollie had slept in. Dry. Thank God!
She and Deller were laying out clothing for the smaller children when they heard their mother's footsteps. This time, Eloise greeted them with her usual instructions: "Mattie and Deller, y'all hurry up and help me get these hea' young'uns ready."
They moved quickly. As they listened to Eloise return downstairs to the kitchen, they heard their father talking to her. The tone of his voice was even, the depth level. Today would be a good day…"
-Excerpt from L. Y. Marlow's Color Me Butterfly
L.Y. Marlow is the third generation of her family to have been a victim and survivor of domestic violence: a violence that almost took her own life and the life of her unborn child. Born and raised in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, the fourth of five children, she comes from a family tree of strong, triumphant women who taught her the meaning of courage, hope, and love. In her debut book, Color Me Butterfly, she tells the poignant and endearing story of four generations of mothers and daughters: the true story of her grandmother, her mother, herself, and her daughter. With grace and wisdom, she examines the impact intergenerational domestic abuse has had on her family for over sixty years.
L.Y. Marlow founded the Saving Grace Campaign to educate and raise awareness. By speaking out, she helps everyone understand the dangers of domestic violence. “If my story can touch one person’s life, inspire one family, then my job has been done,” she says. Additionally, she has launched a website and blog that provide unlimited access to domestic violence programs, support, advocacy, and discussion.
L.Y. Marlow has authored a collection of poetry, selections from which are featured in Color Me Butterfly , and the articles “Ten Signs You Are in an Abusive Relationship” and “Ten Signs Your Teen Is in an Abusive Relationship.” Both provide an account of her personal experiences and tips for all women and teens.
An advocate for expanding and enforcing domestic violence education, awareness, and laws, L.Y. Marlow hopes that her life will be a testament and inspiration to the struggles of all women whose story shares the same face.
To purchase your own copy of her book, please visit, http://colormebutterflypromo.com/