First Chapters #firstchapters refers to the first chapter in this book.
Blurb: Anna Coleman gave her husband one more chance for them to work on fixing what was wrong with their marriage. Ted Coleman used that chance to try to kill her. Anna didn’t give up or give in, she fought to survive, and she fought for justice, as it became a personal struggle. All she wanted was for the justice system to properly punish Ted for what he did to her, and it took a lot of strength, perseverance, and support.
Read how Anna struggles to fight for justice, and deal with her personal issues from having been betrayed and abused by her husband of 13 years.
This is a fictionalized version of the real life events of the Author.
Chapter One (Day Two) Anna stared at her reflection in the glass, as the darkened sky streamed only a glimmer of moonlight through the splashing raindrops. She shuddered slightly at the sound of footsteps behind her. “Yes,” she said to her reflection, her eyes only meeting the woman’s eyes in the window. “I’m Talia. Talia Jeffers. I’m the hospital social worker,” the woman explained. “Number 16?” “I guess,” Anna shrugged, knowing as long as she remained in the hospital, she was private patient 16. “May I sit down?” “I guess,” Anna shrugged again, still not looking at the woman. “I came here to talk with you,” Talia said. “What are you looking at?” “I’m trying to remember,” she sighed. “You don’t remember what happened?” Anna turned abruptly toward the woman, her appearance caught Talia by surprise. Anna’s swollen face was completely covered in shades of blue, purple, black, and red, with a slight yellowing around her throat. “I remember that! I’m trying to remember what I looked like yesterday morning,” she gulped heavily. “I’m sorry,” Talia sighed. “Are you even supposed to be out of bed?” “I slid over to look out the window.” Anna scooted herself from the chair over to the bed. She lifted her legs with her hands as she lay them on the bed. “Why are you here?” “As I said, I’m the social worker. I’m here to talk to you. You are probably feeling ashamed …” she began her default social worker speech. Anna put her hand up, “Uh, stop. You don’t know how I’m feeling.” Talia patted Anna’s hand. “Have you even cried yet?” her tone emitted pity, which annoyed Anna. “I must say that I’m in a lot of pain, where I can actually feel, but no, I haven’t cried. Why should I? It wasn’t my fault.” “It wasn’t?” Talia raised an eyebrow. “You think it was?” Anna’s voice quivered slightly. “That’s not what I mean,” Talia sighed heavily. “I guess I’m doing this all wrong. You’re not the typical victim.” “Survivor,” Anna said. “You’re right, but you should know that there is no typical anything, especially victim.” “Why don’t we start over?” “Only if you stop trying to guess as to what I’m feeling or not feeling, and you don’t tell me how I’m supposed to feel.” “I’m sorry. I apologize. I truly am sorry.” “I’m sure it’s hard to look at me, especially when my face looks like a warped rubber Halloween mask. Believe me, it’s not. And I apologize for my hair.” “Why?” “It took me two hours to comb out my hair with this stupid small black flexible comb. I filled the garbage pail with it. I’ve been trying to use what hair I have left to hide the bald spots.” “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t pay attention to your hair. Maybe I should have paid more attention to everything about you.” “Don’t pity me, and don’t feel sorry for me, please.” “I guess I’ve done this all wrong.” “Before we start, tell me one thing,” Anna said. “What is it?” “What expectations did you have when you walked in that door?” “Oh, well, we are trained …” “No, forget your training. You expected me to be what?” “Crying, upset, blaming yourself, thinking about going back to him …,” she sighed. “The majority of victims go back.” “I’m not going back,” Anna crossed her arms, trying not to wince from the pain. “You’re not?” “Why would I? He tried to kill me. My husband of 13 years tried to kill me!” Her voice shook with anger. “As for crying, I’m not a crier, and I’m not gonna cry because I’m pissed.” “Sixteen,” Talia sighed. “Anna. You can call me Anna.” “All right, Anna,” she practically whispered her name. “Let’s start with that. Why are you pissed?” She crossed her legs. “Ted tried to kill me, and you want to know why I’m pissed? Well, it’s beyond anger, so yes, I’m definitely pissed. A man who was supposed to love me, betrayed me. This is not love. This was hate, and I have no idea why last week he loved me, and yesterday, he–he didn’t.” “Tell me about last week.” “It was our wedding anniversary. Thirteen years,” her voice saddened. “And it was also another anniversary. The anniversary of our son’s death.” “You have children?” “I did, yes,” she leaned back in the bed, her fingers fidgeting with the blanket as she tried to pull at the loose thread in the blanket. “Adam. He was six when he died. He died four years ago.” “Oh, I’m sorry. You want to talk about him?” “What’s to talk about? My son died. He caught a cold in school, he was in kindergarten. By the time I took him to the doctor, the next day because of his fever wouldn’t go down and I couldn’t wake him up, he was in a coma. He died four days later. They never told us that he had a weak immune system and he died from a cold. A friggin’ cold. That’s that. Ted and I have been mourning for four years. Last week, though, something was different.” “Different how?” “We had tried to keep our marriage together, but losing a child, losing Adam took its toll on us. When a person loses a spouse, they’re called a widow, but when a person loses a child, there is no name for that. Well, after he died, we fought, a lot, about everything. It was only yelling and arguing, nothing ever got physical. Ted quit his job, and I worked all the time.” She sighed. “The past month, everything got quiet. Eerily quiet. And then, last week something changed.” “What happened last week?” Anna ran her hands over her face, “It’s so numb, I don’t even feel like I have a face anymore,” she whispered.
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Hope you enjoyed chapter one of "Fractured Tears." You can purchase the book to finish by clicking on the book cover.