Murdered By My Boyfriend---Domestic Violence And A Terrifying End
Without Prejudice
It has taken me a while to compose this story. Every part of my being doesn't want to acknowledge it, feel even a complicit part in it, this vile horror, by watching it, but watch it I did.
The title threw me off a little, I thought at first it was just a shock story, a cheaply made expose of a real life murder. But once I was past the title I found, yes, it was based on a true story, told well, fantastically acted, especially by the lead actress, a newcomer to acting, who won a BAFTA for her performance.
The story is a simple one, a familiar one to us all. A story of a young 17 year old girl, happy, confident that meets a young man who becomes obsessed with her, beats her, and ultimately in a fit of rage kills her.
Not just using his fists and feet but an upended point of an ironing board. All done in the hearing and view of their little two year old girl. I hope time fades her memory of her Dads appalling act. But given the far reaching effects of the Internet in time and content, surely she will come to know.
The shocking story begins when they meet, she an outgoing student, just 17, he attracted to her confidence, her popularity, her simple Joy in just being alive, young, happy.
Almost immediately he begins to try and isolate her. From family, friends. He flatters her, buys her things, becomes her " number one fan ", tells her she's beautiful, special.
She becomes pregnant and he insists she have it, he will be the best Dad ever, he will be there for her, holding her hand through the pregnancy. She has qualms as she feels too young, she has to put her life on hold for a child and a relationship will be formed from sex that might have just died a natural death without it.
All of us have been guilty of that I am sure. Sex being such a strong emotion that sometimes we like the sex so much we then try to form a relationship around it.
But being 17 and confident in her abilities she decides she can cope with it. Like the rest of us she sadly thinks given enough love and attention, reassurance, loyalty she will somehow " cure" him of his violence. She will overcome his childhood traumas, heal him of all the damage done. They call it a Joan Of Arc Syndrome and one of which many, many women and some men and even some kids of addicts will delude themselves with.
I did.
I survived.
Casey Brittle did not.
And Sanchez Williams was jailed for 15 years and then tried to appeal but was given more time instead.
Just desserts I hear you, me and everyone else mutter under your breath.
The type of news that should be yelled out loud, screamed out to the World in its awfulness and tragedy. But we don't. We speak of the horror in appalled whispers and that complicit silence of violence as if by the very whispering we can pretend it doesn't exist. Silence, the very thing that helps to perpetuate violent acts.
Or excuses. He was in a bad mood, stressed, drunk, drugged, or worst excuse of all, the that it was somehow your fault. As that's what you have been told over and over again.
Don't believe it. Violence is NEVER your fault. It's a selfish low act perpetuated by a coward. A simple low life thug who enjoys hitting people smaller than himself. A bully.
He may have other abusive behaviours, yelling, throwing things, pounding things, smashing things, domestic violence has a sound, I can recognise it a mile away these days and will intervene. I'm not stupid, not by confrontation, but by a phone call. I am not losing my precious life to some cowardly thug who should know better.
To be continued................
It has taken me a while to compose this story. Every part of my being doesn't want to acknowledge it, feel even a complicit part in it, this vile horror, by watching it, but watch it I did.
The title threw me off a little, I thought at first it was just a shock story, a cheaply made expose of a real life murder. But once I was past the title I found, yes, it was based on a true story, told well, fantastically acted, especially by the lead actress, a newcomer to acting, who won a BAFTA for her performance.
The story is a simple one, a familiar one to us all. A story of a young 17 year old girl, happy, confident that meets a young man who becomes obsessed with her, beats her, and ultimately in a fit of rage kills her.
Not just using his fists and feet but an upended point of an ironing board. All done in the hearing and view of their little two year old girl. I hope time fades her memory of her Dads appalling act. But given the far reaching effects of the Internet in time and content, surely she will come to know.
The shocking story begins when they meet, she an outgoing student, just 17, he attracted to her confidence, her popularity, her simple Joy in just being alive, young, happy.
Almost immediately he begins to try and isolate her. From family, friends. He flatters her, buys her things, becomes her " number one fan ", tells her she's beautiful, special.
She becomes pregnant and he insists she have it, he will be the best Dad ever, he will be there for her, holding her hand through the pregnancy. She has qualms as she feels too young, she has to put her life on hold for a child and a relationship will be formed from sex that might have just died a natural death without it.
All of us have been guilty of that I am sure. Sex being such a strong emotion that sometimes we like the sex so much we then try to form a relationship around it.
But being 17 and confident in her abilities she decides she can cope with it. Like the rest of us she sadly thinks given enough love and attention, reassurance, loyalty she will somehow " cure" him of his violence. She will overcome his childhood traumas, heal him of all the damage done. They call it a Joan Of Arc Syndrome and one of which many, many women and some men and even some kids of addicts will delude themselves with.
I did.
I survived.
Casey Brittle did not.
And Sanchez Williams was jailed for 15 years and then tried to appeal but was given more time instead.
Just desserts I hear you, me and everyone else mutter under your breath.
The type of news that should be yelled out loud, screamed out to the World in its awfulness and tragedy. But we don't. We speak of the horror in appalled whispers and that complicit silence of violence as if by the very whispering we can pretend it doesn't exist. Silence, the very thing that helps to perpetuate violent acts.
Or excuses. He was in a bad mood, stressed, drunk, drugged, or worst excuse of all, the that it was somehow your fault. As that's what you have been told over and over again.
Don't believe it. Violence is NEVER your fault. It's a selfish low act perpetuated by a coward. A simple low life thug who enjoys hitting people smaller than himself. A bully.
He may have other abusive behaviours, yelling, throwing things, pounding things, smashing things, domestic violence has a sound, I can recognise it a mile away these days and will intervene. I'm not stupid, not by confrontation, but by a phone call. I am not losing my precious life to some cowardly thug who should know better.
To be continued................
