The title is "No More Tears". It is a prologue to a book regarding domestic violence that I intend writing. It is a true account.

Essay by coralee December 2003

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The radio hummed out some nameless tune that seemed to keep the beat with rain hitting the windscreen. She sat, fingers tapping on the steering wheel, waiting for the turning traffic to stop and the green arrow to signal it was her turn.

It was then that she felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise, and a feeling of cold dread spread across her whole body. Turning to the car next to her she saw him. The world around her seemed to swim and she struggled to regain her composure. He grinned that same grin that used to make her blood run cold and she saw him mouth the words that had become a daily threat five years ago when they were married. "you're dead bitch".

A car horn brought her back to the present, and she saw that the green arrow signalled for her and the cars waiting behind her to turn.

With an apologetic wave to the car behind her, she turned the corner and quickly pulled over to the side of the road. No matter how hard she tried, the tears she had held onto now threatened to spill down her cheeks, and her throat ached with an unreleased sob caught there by the fear and despair she felt. Her hands shook so hard she could barely lift them to brush away the tears, and her lips quivered with a movement that resembled her four year olds mouth when he was chastised for flushing yet another toy down the toilet. This thought brought a small, tremulous smile to her face, and breathing deeply, she pulled herself up straight in the seat and silently vowed that this man had destroyed her once, and she would never allow him that same chance again. She would be...