For the next several weeks, my blogs are going to consist of “autobiographies” written by some very special people. They have one thing in common. They are all dead. Some have a burial place and some were simply discarded like pieces of trash. Their stories will be told by the deceased themselves. They cry out from the fields, rivers and graveyards to speak. I have heard their cries. They want me to tell their stories to you. They want you to know what their living and dying was for. This week, Cindy will tell you the story of her life and death.
Cindy the Wife
He beat me. He beat me. He beat me. I hurt so badly from the pain. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the emotional pain. I loved him. Why did he hurt me? He kept on beating me. Finally, I yelled for him to stop. He screamed “I will stop when I am damn well ready.” He then picked up a baseball bat and started to beat me with that. The first blow to my head, and I could see stars. The second blow, I thought my head would explode. The third blow was the last one I could remember and then I lost consciousness. I can see my body now. My brains are leaking from my skull. My blood is splattered all over the walls. I think my arms are both broken and maybe my legs. My poor body looks so lonely and disfigured. I can hardly recognize my face. I don’t feel pain any more but I still feel lonely.
I probably should never have married him. I was only twenty-five and he was thirty. I had dated a series of jerks and losers and he seemed like a real nice guy. We married about a year later. We were so happy at first. I thought all my dreams had come true. Then the fights and arguments started. A year after we were married was the first time he hit me. He slapped me in the face and called me a bitch. I think I deserved it. I apologized and said that I was sorry. A short time after that he punched me in the face. I apologized again. I probably deserved it. The punches and hits became more and more frequent. What was I doing wrong?
My friends all urged me to leave him but I could not. I know he loves me and needs me. If I could only get him to stop hitting me. The punches turned into beatings. More and more beatings! I would frequently have a black eye. I always had bruise marks on my arms and legs. He knocked a few of my teeth out one day. Another time, he threw me against a wall so hard that it broke two of my ribs and dislocated my shoulder joint. I told him I was sorry. He screamed at me that I was a bitch and it was all my fault.

Police photos of Heather Thompson in a hospital bed are displayed at her home in Monroe, N.C. Thursday, May 28, 2009. Thompson was 23 in 1994 when her then-husband Thomas Howard Price Jr beat her senseless, leaving her with bone spurs, pinched nerves and osteoarthritis. She has taught law officers about domestic violence in the years since Price vowed in a letter from prison to kill her and their daughters. Price was released Friday May 29, 2009, from a federal prison in South Carolina. (AP Photo/Nell Redmond)
I don’t know if I can take any more of this. Maybe I should leave? If only I could figure out what I am doing that makes him so angry. I try and try. I am a good wife. I cook and clean and sew. I keep a very tidy house. My meals are always cooked just like he likes them. I fold his clothes and put them all away. I try to adjust my time so that I am available whenever he needs me. I want to have children some day. I always watch how much money I spend. I get along well with all of his friends and relatives. I always try to make them feel right at home. I am a faithful, loving and loyal wife. My name is Cindy. Please do not forget me. I need someone to remember me.
Nobody is home now. The police have come and taken him away. I feel sorry for him. I know he loves me and did not really mean to hurt me. I don’t physically feel any pain now. All I feel is this deep loneliness and regret. I must go to find God. I do not really understand what I did wrong. I have always believed that God was good and he would protect me. I need to talk to God and ask him for forgiveness. I want to know how to make this feeling of loneliness go away. I will ask him to explain to me how I could have been a better wife. My soul will never rest until I find God and ask him this question: “Why?” I know I am very sorry for whatever I did to cause this problem.
Time for Questions:
Why do we put up with so much domestic violence? What do we teach our children that make them think it is okay to hit a woman? What do we have to do to stop this violence? Should we have a “War on Domestic Violence?” Do we simply accept that there is nothing we can do about it? Do you realize that t this is an international problem and not just a US problem?
Life is just beginning.
May 10, 2015 5:00AM ET
Brazil passes femicide law to curb domestic violence
Legislation defines gender-based killings and sets out tougher punishments for attackers
by Donna Bowater & Priscilla Moraes
RIO DE JANEIRO — “My best hope is that he dies,” the tall, slight and articulate 45-year-old speech therapist said calmly of her husband. “I know that he can kill me.”
The woman, who asked not to be identified, had gone to the courts in Rio de Janeiro to seek protection from her husband of 22 years.
After her husband suffered a psychiatric breakdown in 2001, she said, he became violent and threatened to kill her, their daughter and himself. “I learned that between him and me, it’s me first,” she said.
It is estimated that more than 13 million women have been victims of domestic abuse in Brazil, where a woman is killed every two hours. Despite measures to reduce domestic violence with the Maria da Penha law in 2006, government figures suggest 700,000 women still live with aggression and assaults. Out of 84 countries, Brazil had the seventh-highest rate of women killed, according to the World Health Organization.