Chapter 5: At the Brink of Death

A year had pasted and Ella Bradshaw did very well for her house at her school. Bringing home both silver and gold medal in the area of sports, running the long distance race and throwing the shot-put ball. She had also partake in the singing and dancing festivities for the region, bringing home to the school a goal medal as well.

But the situation at home continued.

The beatings, the excessive work, and the verbal abuse. Which had a serious effect on Ella’s concentration. She could carry out physical activities at school, but anything mental, took a longer period of time for her to grasp and found it very difficult to memorize. Often times asking the teacher to repeat what he or she had just said to her or the class again and again.

Because on her mind, it was always about what she was going home to experience next. If it wasn’t her then it would be one of her other six siblings who would be getting the gruesome ass whopping.

And since the almost fatal beating of Ella, her father Christopher didn’t lay hands on her again, but her other siblings were in line for theirs, and so it was, for one of Ella’s brother by the name of Phillip. This flagging did not warrants its cruelty and brutal actions, but it was what it was inside of the Bradshaw household. And with the scarcity of anything known as a child protective services or even the involvement of social workers to intervene on these children behalf, the agony continued for years.

It was a Saturday morning and Ella’s father Christopher was fixing his bicycle in the front of the yard. And for some reason, he believed that he needed help in getting this task done and called out for his elder son Phillip to come and assist him with the repairs on the foot pedal. He must have wanted him to run into town, get some tubing or other bicycle parts for him, so his mode of transportation would be back to up and running once again. Phillip hands were already busy, digging out banana roots which his mother had ask him to dig for her days before. And Phillip not being swift enough to his father’s response, he was by his father’s side minutes too late, probably just over thirty minutes. And the price he would pay for such would be for a lifetime.

Because he had beaten his own son and causing his face to be badly disfigured for years to come. All front teeth inside his mouth were twisted to the left like coconut trees being blowing by a point seven hurricane, leaning all the beautiful front molars to one side of the boy’s mouth.

“When I call you to do something for me, you stop whatever you are doing and come right away!”

Were the words Christopher repeatedly said, as he stamped his heavy feet, one after the other in the face and jawline of his young son; in a fit of rage!

After Christopher’s feet were tired, he then retrieve the metal frame of the bicycle and began whacking his son all over his body, not seeming to care where the blows went. Now, not only were his teeth bent out of shape, but his eyes were bulging and red, swollen and seemed like they were out of their sockets!

While he lashed out many mention of him being the man, the father and the provider around this house, as he used all his strength it seemed to beat the flesh off his son’s bones.

This was some serious shit… some dreadful beat-down that not even, a large four footed animal could take!

Meanwhile, all the other children in the house were secretly watching in horror, fearing that their father had them on his mind and would eventually grab them and then do to them what he was now doing to their brother. Or, he would just hit them for watching him with their faces filled with terror written all over it.

Up to Phillip’s mother Ms. Ella, had a look of pity on her face when she had seen what her common-law husband had done to her son’s face. But she knew better not to intervene or else, a different kind of ass whopping would be in store for her as well. One which would have made her terrified and running all over the riverbank seeking for shelter and hoping that soon, her man Christopher would have calm himself down.

Sadly, but true, no one came around this time to rescue Phillip Bradshaw from the gruesome beatings of his father’s hands. Simply because, he was coming into his teenage years and wouldn’t cry out for help in a situation like this. Because, he was in his teenage years, his voice was cracking indicating his manly transformation and he wanted to be or play tough with his father, showing him that he too was now becoming a man. A decision which had caused him to go through most of his life with an unattractive mouth piece, gaining many unwanted stares and sometimes, even scorns.

One thing was for certain, Phillip would never allow his father to wait on him, not even for a minute, once he heard him calling out his name for whatever reason.

But would deliverance ever come to these children living in this atmosphere of turmoil, cruelty and outright violence?

And if it even did, in what form would this rescue actually come… would death be the straw that would have to break the camel’s back?

Ella screamed as much as she could and rescuers came, but her brother Phillip, kept silent as the blows came at him continuously at the most sensitive parts of his anatomy.

Ultimately, leaving Phillip going through his youthful years when his self-esteem, appearance and the fashionable way one sees themselves should be recognize and experienced as a lad.

These were the years when that first girl would find a boy attractive in school or around her community and probably begin harboring thoughts about dating that male in her classroom or even seeing him as a future partner. But for Phillip, that wasn’t the case because of the great disfigurement that his father had left on his face. Even though, he was born a naturally handsome guy.

And such were the days when teachers intervene not on the display of abuse physically showing on the body of a child. Because just like the parents, they too were putting their blows on the children as well; leaving their tender skin badly bruise and even dripping blood at times. Because, that was the method used for granting discipline or punishment to those tiny souls they called their children.

However, some years had pasted and the youngest of the Bradshaw girls, Lillian, was now turning thirteen and began expressing her way in the manner that most teenagers do. Not even taking heed of what had happened to her eldest sister, Ella and brother Phillip who was just a year older than she was. Phillip was around her day and night, and the prove was there of what had happen to him and she was also a witness to it. But she refuse from taking heed, and responded to her father in a negative manner after having some form of altercation with him about something pertaining to her schooling.

A response which had the monkey on her father’s back, standing up strong and very ready and eager to attack her. Attacking her he did! Grabbing her by the neck with his bare hands and squeezing the life out of her until her entire face became purple-blue!

No sounds for help was coming from her voice-box, and neither could it, because his big hands were tightly hugging around her neck. And since her statue was that of a very small person, it was only her hands and feet that were dancing and dangling in the air showing the sign of life left inside of her. While her own father held her by the throat, as though he was holding a medium size dog and kept on squeezing the life out of her.

Ella, a bit older now, but still in her teenage years, instantly knew that she needed to do something, fast, before death quickly came upon their doorsteps. But, she was too paralyze with fear to what her father in the back with a stone or with one of the logs laying on the ground in the front of the yard.

She thought about him releasing his hands from her sister’s neck and dropping her to the ground and then turning his attention on her; strangling her now or in her bed when she went off to sleep. Especially, since such was one of his constant threats.

Upon seeing the entire face of her sister becoming blue, Ella began screaming out for Jesus, repeatedly, hoping he would burst from the skies and intervene in this matter. But such didn’t happened.

Her mother who was in the back of the yard and unaware of the dilemma taking place in the front of the yard, dropped whatever she was attending to and came racing towards the front of the house. Where, she saw her youngest daughter on her last breath, grasping for air while her own father was stifling the life out of her little body.

“Chris, what you think you doing!”

Ms. Nella shouted at him.

But her shouting went only to deaf ears.

Ella ran to the streets to get help since her mother’s voice was of no effect while her mother reached for one of the logs laying on the ground and then cautiously, she tried going after her common-law husband with it across the back. But quickly he turned his head and saw her coming at him with the thick piece of log in her hand, and so he immediately dropped Lillian and went dashing after her.

Instantaneously, all of Christopher’s intention turn to killing the mother of his five children and five step-children and burying her in the bushes. Because, he had driven so much fear into the minds of all his children and the step-children as well; he knew that he could keep them silent for a very long time.

Thankfully, Ella had took off to street to get some help, and miraculously, it was a police car that had stopped to the waving of her tiny hands and sobbing face. And soon as the vehicle made a sudden stop and reversed to her feet, she shouted;

“My father is killing one of my sisters, officer, and I can’t get him to stop!”

Guns were now immediately drawn while one of the officers asked; “Where is your father… inside the house or outside?”

“Outside; at the front of the yard!”

Ella responded sobbingly.

Jumping over the fever grass bushes making a fence around the yard of the Bradshaw’s property, the police men entered the yard of the Bradshaw family with guns in their hands. And there they found little Lillian, still laying on the ground, blue and purple still reflecting on her skin color while she kept grasping for air.

“Who had done this to you; just point!”

One if the officers shouted at her.

Lillian, although weak, pointed at her father Christopher who was still standing there with a look of fright on his face.

“Don’t shoot me officer!”

Ella’s father shouted and pleaded with both hands in the air!”

“How could you do something like this to your own daughter?”

One of the officers replied angrily.

Big bad Christopher Bradshaw was now lost for words and began pouring out streams of rivers from his eyes while fumbling for what to say to the officers to justify his actions. But no words could come neither to his thoughts or his tongue to defend or substantiate his barbaric actions placed upon his daughter.

“What if, I had blaze a bullet inside of you when I came in the yard and saw you with your hands folded around this young lady’s neck, trying to suck the life out of her with your bear hands… who would you blame, me or her?”

The nicely dressed policeman questioned while still holding his gun in his hand and massaging the trigger with his finger.

Eye-water dripping from his eyes, Christopher responded; “I really don’t know who would to be blame, but I hoped such a thing would never happen.”

“You don’t want such a thing to happen, once you’re the one feeling the pain! But, your poor harmless daughter, should lose her life just because of your inability to control yourself or your temper!”

The officer reasoned with fierceness in his eyes.

“I was only trying to scare her officer, I didn’t mean to cause her any harm!”

Christopher Bradshaw said with fright covering his face.

“You didn’t mean to cause her any harm!” The officer shouted showing signs of his annoyance; “Look at her, still showing signs of your attempt to strangle her to death… can’t you see what you have done to her… she is still showing signs of being black, blue and purple, along with trying to catch her damn breath!”

The younger officer who had gone by Lillian side, knelt down beside her and was comforting her and feeding her with sips of water, now spoke. Making suggestions of what they should do with Christopher Bradshaw pertaining to his punishment.

“Should I handcuff him, throw him inside the back of the vehicle and take him by the station?”

The younger officer of the two asked with much seriousness on his face.

“Cuff him of course!” The senior officer responded; “If he doesn’t go to jail for this act, he will continue treating his children this way or anyone else weaker than he is!”

“What should be the charges; assault or attempted murder?”

The rooky officer asked.

“You don’t see the sight of his daughter… the poor victim; that she is still blue in the face and gasping for air!”

The senior officer lashed out asking.

Immediately, the rooky officer removed the pair of handcuffs from his waistband and ordered Christopher to turn around so he could safely place the handcuffs arounds his wrist as he read him his Maranda rights.

Suddenly, no nonsense Christopher Bradshaw, fell to the ground on both knees and began pleading for pity.

“I love my daughter! I won’t touch her like that ever again! Just give me one more chance, I beg of you officer!”

Ella and Lillian’s father said in tears.

“If you want pity that depends on your daughter! She is the one you almost killed, so she is the one you should be begging for mercy!”

The senior officer said with a stiff face.

Baily turning his head around to gaze upon his daughter and seek her compassion, Christopher found it very difficult to speak a word for his own mercy or even to say a word of apology. But only stared into Lillian’s face in silence, desperately hoping for her to nod her head or give some indication for him to be release.

Lillian had seen throughout the years what her father hand done to all of her elder siblings and knew it was time for this violence and cruel treatment to stop. Therefore, no words of mercy were coming from her lips, and she wanted this man to know, whose blood was running through her veins, that he couldn’t treat her like this and then get away with it. At lease, no this time around.

His beige color khaki pants making a wedgie in the crack of his ass, Christopher Bradshaw was drawn and dragged by the policemen towards their waiting truck, and then thrown onto the back seat of the caged like vehicle, where he sat and bitterly wept.

For what seems like an eternity, the police vehicle wouldn’t move from in front of the Bradshaw’s property, even though, one police officers had taken up his position behind the steering wheel and the other, on the passenger’s seat.

What was taking them so long to remove the big black vehicle, used for transporting jail birds – criminals?

This time around Ms. Nella didn’t say much or even begged the officers not to take her husband and throw him in jail. But stood to the side of the yard and kept very silent about the matter, knowing that her hands were just as guilty in these kinds of violent beatings when it came down to disciplining all of her children. And as she removed herself from the scene… the front of the yard and returned to the back where she was before all this drama began taking place, she mumbled some strange and disturbing utterances underneath her breathe. Needless-to-say they were loud enough for Lillian and Ella to hear.

“All of you must know how you will be going to school now that your Papa is thrown in jail!”

The comment had immediately brought fear and terror in the eyes of Ella and her sister, Lillian; but mostly Lillian. Since she was attending high school and doing well there. But Ella had heard many times in previous years that she wasn’t good for anything at all, but for keeping house and fetching whatever was needed from the market and grocery shops. Although, in her very first year at secondary school, before the stress of house work was placed upon her and the continuous verbal and physical abuse was being experienced; that she was graded second in her class among the number of thirty students there.

Both girls were now wondering;

“How the heck are we going to attend schools on a daily basis?”

This was a shock to them both, because, they had often heard from the mouth of their mother that she was the only one spending money for all of them to attend school each day.

It was only now that the cuffs were locked around their father’s wrist that they were learning otherwise!

Lillian felt the need to run to the police vehicle still parked in front of their property and pardon her father for almost killing her; but was too ashamed to make such a gesture. Fearing that if she pardon him and ask the officers to let him loose, such would give him the liberty to carry out the same thing with her once again. Only that, she might not be as lucky the next time around to identify her own father as her attacker.

In that moment, it was only a sense of stillness in the air!

Not even, the wild chickens were clucking around the house as they usually do, as if, a message of wonderment was being sent through the atmosphere to the inhabitants of the Bradshaw’s household.

Subsequently, around ten minutes later, the doors of the policemen vehicle could be heard slamming shut, and seconds later, the sound of the loosening of heavy chains.

“Did her father escaped from the officer’s truck!”

Lillian wondered.

But, she was still too weak to remove herself from the position where she was sitting. And so, she beckoned to her sister Ella to go by street and see what was taking place there.

There, she had seen the two police officers in deep discussion about something. And around ten minutes or so later, the officers open up the back doors of the truck and told Christopher to scoot his ass towards the door, where they then aided him out of the truck. Soon, they were walking him, back to the front of the house, where Lillian was still seated.

Still with cuffs on his hands and a wedgie in the crack of his butt, the officers gave Ella and Lillian’s father, stern warning never to touch them ever again. Because, if he did, that would be the last of him seeing road or feeling any kind of liberty as a man.

Tears dripping and face soaking wet, Christopher nodded his head as he heeded such stern warnings.

“I promise you officers, I won’t touch them ever again! You are the man of the law and I am heeding everything you’re saying to me!”

Christopher Bradshaw said sorrowfully.

Believing that he was remorseful for his previous actions, one of the police officer push into the key hole of the handcuff the tiny key and then twisted it for opening it. And with the silver bracelet just off his wrist, Ella’s father began rubbing the spot on his hands where the metal bracelet rested and had left a red indentation there.

“Thank you, Sir, thank you!”

Christopher said repeatedly to the officers, still rubbing at the red mark around his veined wrist.

The officers then turned their attention to Lillian, advising her to immediately make a report at the police station, if her father ever lay his hands on her or at any of his other children again.

He then said the same to thing to Ella;

“Don’t be afraid to run or beg a ride to the police station and inform us if ever tries to hurt you! Because, he will certainly kill one of you as he trying doing today!”

Shyly and cowardly, Ella with eyes pop wide open, shook her head, indicating to the law enforcers that she understood their command.

Moments later, both officers were embracing the both teenagers one at a time, in a fatherly manner, signifying that they sincerely cared about their wellbeing. Not only to them, but to their father as well, who was still standing there, silently watching the moment of loving embraces with his two teenage daughters and the policemen.

Releasing their embraces from the girls, both officers pathed them on the shoulders and then said their goodbyes. And before going through the gates of the Bradshaw’s family home, the officers gave Christopher a final warning while aiming their fingers at him. Few seconds later, the officers truck was started and out of sight.

But the stern warning of the policemen didn’t seem to have much effect on Christopher Bradshaw. Because, as soon as the sound of their truck engine was absent from his hearing, he began rowing with his children once again. Throwing words of serious threats at them while walking back and forth in the house, as though, he was desperately looking for some form of weaponry to finish what he had already started. And the more he walked was the more he kept on cursing about taking any of his children’s lives while they were sleeping because this was his roof and they must adhered to anything that he tells them to do or jumped to his calls.

The words Christopher was uttering were frightening, scary and causing much panic to the children around him… his own flesh and blood.

Feeling the hands of her father and blows he had placed upon her skin and her mind as well, Ella had no intentions of sticking around for her father to batter her almost to death a fourth time around. And now he seemed more evil than ever!

So, Ella yelled out at her sister; “Lillian we have to go by the police station right away and report to them that Dada is going to kill us while we are sleeping!”

Ella had spoken load enough for her father to hear, hoping that he would shut-up with the threats and keep quiet for even a minute. But Lillian took the call seriously and began dressing herself into something decent for wearing on the road. And with only her shoes left to fit into her shoes, Christopher suddenly swung the curtain to the children’s bed room attach to the living room, barging inside of it and began shouting at them.

“Where the fuck you think you’re going?”

He said angrily staring at Lillian.

Ignoring her father’s question, Lillian continued pushing her feet into her shoes.

Not getting any response from her, caused her father to have grown even much angrier. And now, he was fiercely coming after her with the bedside lamp in his hand.

“Run Lillian, run!!!”

Ella shouted repeatedly while she cart wheel onto the bed and then jump through the board window above her bed.

Quickly, Christopher jumped onto his bicycle and began making his way down the street, riding as fast as he could, trying to catch up with Lillian. She was running as fast as she could, and she could also see that her father was closing in on her. As he pump his feet faster and faster to the bicycle pedals. So, immediately, she began flagging down every motorist using the roadway, regardless of what direction they were heading into.

While out of breath and shouting;

“My father is trying to kill me!”

Not knowing the severity of the situation, one motorist with a big grin on his face, put one hand to his mouth and shouted back at Lillian;

“Your father is not going to kill you, pickny, he’s only going to give you a little spanking on that round ass of yours!”

Sever motorist past by the roadway without even stopping to help or intervened; only briefly slowing down their cars or trucks to take in what seems like a moment of sport entertainment to them. Some encouraging Lillian to run faster while others, loudly jeered at her father about how swiftly his feet were moving on the bicycle pedals.

Christopher was now almost on top of her, ready to leap off his bicycle and grab his daughter by the collar of her pink shirt blouse. But, a sympathizer stepped in and safe the day. Pulling up his motor bike closely beside Lillian just as her father was about to put the hold her, and shouted for her to hop on his bike.

Leaping onto the back of the bike, the kind rider shouted;

“Hold on tight!”

And so she did, pressing her face against the back of the rider while the wind pounce upon her face heavily, as she tiringly spoke again and again; “Take me to the station… the police station!”

Not seeming to care why, the man riding the bike, did exactly just that. Riding his bike with Lillian, hugging him tightly around the waist with her face resting against his back, shielding the wind away from her eyes. Thirty minutes later, he then made the stop at the Duckens Field Police Station, where he dropped off the stranger whom he had helped escape her frightening ordeal.

Still grasping for much needed air, Lillian spoke between breaths to law enforcement officers who were standing gazing at her with much astonishment and intensity on their faces;

“My father is trying… he is trying to kill me!”

“Where is your father now?”

One officer asked.

“What’s his name?”

Another shouted.

I left him at my house… on the street… I ran away from him!”

Lillian replied.

“That man on the bike over there… he save my life; he helped me escape from my father and brought me here. My father name is… is Christopher Bradshaw!”

Lillian answered while struggling with her sentences.

“What kind of weapon was he trying to kill you with?”

“I don’t know! His hands, a machete his bicycle brakes!”

Lillian responded with confusion on her face.

Then came a familiar face walking towards the receptionist area of the police station.

It was one of the same police officers who had just left her yard less than an hour ago.

Seeing a group of his colleagues standing around the young lady, shaking like leaves during hurricane winds, crying and bellowing out her story the best way she could. The officer in shock, stopped the small crowd and surprisingly exclaimed.

“Young lady, didn’t I just left your house not too long ago?”

But instead of answering the officer right away, Lillian with open arms reached out to hug onto his waist before telling him her side of the story.

“Soon after you left the yard, he began threatening us once again, and because my sister and I said we were coming here to report the problem of him trying to kill us, he began chasing after me on his bicycle. Until, that bike rider over there, came and rescued me and gave me a ride here!”

Lillian explained.

“Well, I guess, he didn’t hear me the very first time!”

The familiar officer said with a frown on his face.

“Corporal Banks, Constable Brown and I, could easily take a ride over there and see about the matter.”

One rookie eagerly suggested.

But after staring at his junior staff member for a while, Corporal Banks came to a final decision.

“I will make the trip myself… maybe detective Lindsey and I, will have to pay that Bradshaw house another visit again!”

Corporal Banks stated sternly.

“Where is your other sister; Ella?”

Corporal Banks then ask with a look of concern upon his face.

“I left her at the house.”

Lillian replied.

“Holy smokes!” Corporal Banks exclaimed; “He might be twisting her there right now!”

Immediately, Corporal Banks began clapping both hands together, indicating for Constable Lindsey to hop inside the truck with him.

But before driver out of the police station, the bike rider who had dropped Lillian off at the police station, was still there at the station listening to all the was being said and observing the actions that were about to be taken. Not only of Lillian but pertaining to other victims and criminals there as well. And upon glancing through one of the widow of his truck and still seeing the biker, leaning against his bike with arms folded, Corporal Banks called out to him, telling him to please leave a statement at the front desk of the police station before going anywhere.

Shouting those words to the bikers, the sirens began blasting as officer Bank rush to the Bradshaw house in heightened speed. And sure enough, he was just in time to catch Christopher, drawing and dragging Ella by the back of her blouse like a farm animal to the far end of the yard, containing mostly bushes and dry logs. Meanwhile uttering words the he wasn’t going to jail for nothing. Therefore, if the cops should hold him, they should indeed hold or arrest him for something… for eliminating the life of his own child from this earth.

In her father’s hands, Ella was fighting with all her might; trying to get away from his grip. The majority of her blouse was already torn. Showing that she had put up a very hard struggle. She was bruised, bloody, black and blue marks were all over her skin, especially on her face.

Christopher wasn’t taking her any further!

One gun-shout was fired. But Christopher paid no attention to it.

Then, other gun-shot went off, sounding much louder than the one before, echoing in the air, alerting man, nature and beast.

It was at this loud, thunderous firing of Corporal Banks’ gun that Christopher Bradshaw dropped his daughter Ella to the ground and turned around, only to have seen that there were two police men standing behind him.

“You again!!!”

Christopher stressed as he looked at the officers with wild eyes.

“What you want to do, shoot me for disciplining, my own pickny them?”

Christopher continued to ask with frustration showing all over his face.

“If you don’t drop that log in your hand, I just might have to!”

Stubborn as a mule, narcissistic Christopher held onto that piece of log in his hand, gripping it even tighter then before; as though, his usage of it was much faster than that of a bullet.

Ella still lying on the ground, not far from her father’s feet, and still in her consciousness.

Her mother, Ms. Nella at the far corner of the house peeping… cowardly watching to see what would become of all the catastrophe going on around her yard.

Christopher loudly hearing the words repeatedly; “Drop it!” but stood there like King-Kong in his yard clothing.

On all fours, Ella began crawling.

Soon, she was reaching for a piece of log piled up against one of the large trees.

Tightly griping the piece of log in her hand, she began crawling back to where she was like a baby anaconda.

Then, she was up on both legs, like Zena the Warrior Princess, and with one hard and swift swing to the head, Christopher was down like cement block.

Both officers were in a state of shock and stood still for a while as they watched the tall muscular six footer falling to the ground.

Officer Banks rush to Christopher’s side, check his pulse and realize that he was still alive. He also had a reasonable size scare, gushing blood.

“We have to get him medical care!”

Corporal Banks stated.

“Well, at least, he will be out of the house for a while, so these damn children won’t have to sleep with one eye open.”

The constable spoke with a look of relief on his face.

Now, the policemen were dragging Christopher on the ground like a cow going to the slaughter.

He still hadn’t come to his senses when the officers lifted him, hand and feet, and place him inside the back of their truck.

Turning to Ella and her sister, Corporal Banks said;

“You guys don’t have to worry for now. Because I’m certain, your father will be tied to a hospital bed, for at least a week. And when they release him, it will be into my hands that he will be coming; so I’ll make sure, he doesn’t lay hands on either one of you ever again!”

The girls were now feeling happy and encouraged that someone of authority was on their side, offering them protection, making them feel secure from the brutal hands of their father. And although their mother wasn’t much better, she was off the hook for now, since, she was a master manipulator in the affairs of the household when it came down to disciplining each child. Often cracking the whip just as hard and dangerously as her common-law husband Christopher. But for most part, would offer them extra food at times, just to keep them quiet after giving them a merciless flagging with whatever she had laid her hands on.

Observing Ms. Nella silently watching, with fear in her eyes, all the drama going on her property, Corporal asked.

“How can you stay with a man who treats your children like this… don’t you want to see them grow up to be healthy and productive in society or the world?”

“How are they, to take care of you, if you beat them and batter them like dirty old carpets in their youths?”

The sympathetic man of the law expressed.

But, Ms. Nella only leaned against the walls of the house as though, she was holding it up, with a worried look on her face and gave no response to the officer.

Soon, the men of the law, were in their vehicle, blasting their sirens and quickly speeding away to the medical facility with Christopher Bradshaw lying in the back of their truck.

Now that the violent man of the Bradshaw’s house was hooked to a hospital bed, with a gushing wounds; would this be an actual end of the family’s truculent circumstances – circumstances of vicious, aggressive and callous beatings of their own children?

Ella, Lillian, and Phillip and also the two younger children, went to bed that night feeling a sense of burdensomeness off their little shoulders.

Their mother hadn’t said much to them before going to bed, but they could all tell from the look on her face that she wasn’t feeling too please. And not wanting to expose, whatever that was eating her up inside, all of the children went to bed without saying a word to her; except for, ‘Good night mama’ when it was time for bed. Just like they were trained to do from a very tender age.

All in bed not worrying about Dada coming to hack them to death during their sleep like he had promised them many times that he would. They all fell sound asleep.

It was around midnight, in the pitch of blackness when hen, chickens and dogs were all quiet, when someone came banging on the glass plane of the front windows to the Bradshaw’s house.

The poundings were very loud it awoken Ella and Lillian at the same time, who had taken heed from answering the call, unsure of who the caller might have been.

Another sound came that crash one of the window plane and had Ella and Lillian flying from off the bed and holding each other tightly in a comforting manner as the caller shouted;

“Damn it, you all deaf!” as the person smash on the glass plane of the window harder than before.

It was that smashing sound that woke their mother, Ms. Nella, and had her sitting up on the side of the bed, scratching her hands and rubbing away sleep from her eyes.

Ella and Lillian recognized the voice to be that of their father’s and dash underneath the bed to hide while their mother, still sleepy shouted, “Who is it?” trying to make sure that her presumption was on point.

“Christopher! He responded angrily; “Are you expecting someone else to come into my house at this hour of the night?”

Ms. Nella opened the door located at the side of her bedroom and let him inside the house. And soon as she had done so, Christopher entered the room and found his way on top of the mattress where he sprawled out and fell off into a deep sleep.

His head was bandaged with several layers of gaze and a bit of blood seeping from it, indicating that he was already attended to at the hospital. But no one knew for sure, if the hospital staff had released him or if, he had discharged himself from there. Because, from Ms. Nella’s understanding, he was supposed to be under police watch and then be taken to the station after being treated by the doctors at the medical facility where he was taken.

“Did Christopher escape from the hospital or from the hands of the cops and made his way home?”

Were the lingering questions that troubled the mind of his wife!

But, such questions couldn’t be answered presently since he was fast asleep and neither did any of the police officers come to the house as yet, try hunting him down.

However, morning would come soon and the comforts of home and sweet sleep, would prove not to last for too long for the man whose inferior complexes would cause him to beat the life out of his own children.

But what would make him stop… totally give up this gruesome way of treating his own children?

Would the law being enforce to the max on Christopher Bradshaw or him getting a dose of his own medicine, ever make him ease from his contentious ways and the cruelty he acted out on all the children he was fathering?