This time, Brenda knew she...
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This time, Brenda knew she was going to make it. She had tried to leave three times before. Each time, George had talked her into returning. Each time, she had believed him when he had apologized so profusely and vowed he truly loved her. She had believed him when he said he didn't know why he got so angry and beat her black and blue. She had believed him, because she so desperately longed to be loved, and thought if she were a better person he wouldn't hit her anymore. But each time she had left, she had grown a little stronger. Each time she had left, she had become a little more certain that she didn't need George's idea of love -- and that she didn't deserve it either. It had been a revelation to her to realize that she might be worth something just because she was a human being. Brenda knew she would never forget the young doctor who had spoken so gently as he stitched up the gash in her arm. "How could anyone do this to you?" he had asked. And before she could answer, he had asked, "How could you let anyone do this to you?" "Let him?" she had questioned in reply. It had never occurred to her that she had any choice; certainly not that she was allowing it to happen! She had just stared at the young doctor then, in bemused surprise, for a long, silent moment. Then something long-dead stirred deep within her. Resolve? A sense of self-worth? Whatever it was, she felt its strength, and knew that this time, she was finally free; she would not be going back. -- Fannin
