Him and the abuse

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Something I went through that I need to share

Submitted: September 15, 2016

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Submitted: September 15, 2016

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This is very hard for me to do. It has taken me days to write this out and accept that maybe it is time to talk about it. I have a real life horror story. Something I went through that still haunts me to this day. It makes certain subjects and certain daily things trigger horrible nightmares and depression.

When I was 14 I ran away from home. I "moved out" worked 2 jobs and went to school. I was seemingly the perfect child. But with all the money I made I got involved in drugs. Cocaine was my best friend. I had a boyfriend who was much older and inherited a LARGE amount of money and his own condo. I was 14 and he was 21 living in a penthouse apartment with more than enough play money. He seemed perfect to me. As usual it started with him being the sweetest guy on earth. I was not ready for the sexual aspect of a relationship and I though he was okay with that. That all changed one Day. I came home to him from work came home to a scene from the movies. Candles EVERYWHERE rose petals scattered throughout the apartment the scent of lilacs and roses floating through the air, and he appears with a teddy bear holding a rose telling me all the things a hire would want to hear. "Sweetie you're perfect" ( I still cringe when someone calls me sweetie 14 years later) "I want something you won't be able to give anyone else" I got scared, I wasn't ready. He slowly walked me to the bedroom. And he tried to calm me to get me ready but I just wasn't there. I said " no I'm sorry this is beautiful but I'm just not ready" and that's when he got angry he jumped up climbed on top of me so his legs were pinning down my arms his hands wrapped so tightly around my ankles i thought they were going to break. He tried to force himself down my throat and i threw up everywhere choking on it at the same time. He SNAPPED started calling me names telling me I would pay for that and that I hadn't seen anything yet.

Boy was he right.

I locked myself in the bathroom while he screamed and tried to beat down the door. A few moments later His neighbor and best friend came in heard the commotion and calmed him down and took me home. Which was actually a friends basement I was renting. I hid there.

I ignored his calls for weeks afterwards. But I was weak and I thought I loved him. Eventually I believed his apologies and I went back. Things were okay for a little while. Then I came home once again to the same scene. The candles, the roses. But he was in the shower. So I quietly went to the room got changed out of work clothes. I went and sat on the balcony, I remember looking down (18 stories) and thinking "Damn that drop would hurt" eventually he found me sitting there. His first words were "You aren't getting away this time" panic set in. He approached slowly brushing my hair away from my face and kissed me. His hands wandering but as I tried to pull away his grip got tighter. I yelled I don't know how many times "No!" Then he hit me. First a slap to the face. And I couldn't believe what just happened. He moved in to kiss me again and I pulled away he grabbed me by the hair and threw me into the wall. I crumbled to the ground and he pulled me back up by the hair. I looked him dead in the eyes and said "it doesn't matter how much you hurt me it's not going to get you what you want" Well That made things worse. He threw me head first into the cement wall when I dropped to the ground he started kicking me in the back, the ribs, the stomach, the head. Until I blacked out.

When I woke up. I couldn't move. I was strapped to something but I could swear I was standing. I couldn't see. My arms felt cold metal. All these thoughts filled my head. Where was I ? Was he still here? Was I even alive? Was I blind? What was going on? I felt so weak. So sore. Then I heard a door close. And his voice echoed through my skull. "Bitch you awake?" I asked where I was and he told me I was where I deserved to be and that I would get what I deserved. Then I heard it. The sound of a whip cracking through the air. Followed by a stinging burning sensation right down my back. One,two,three,four.... I stopped counting as I felt my body go numb and limp. "Please, please stop" I cried I begged as he continued and tears rolled down my cheeks. Until I was too weak and tired to cry and beg anymore and then blackness.

I don't know how much time passed when I woke up crumpled on the floor my back, my neck, my legs welted and burning. Pain from the inside out. When I looked up I saw what I had been strapped to... a wooden cross shackles were what had held me in place. And I cried I couldn't stop. I crawled to the bathroom and refused to look in the mirror. I took a shower then searched the apartment for him. He was nowhere to be found. I could barely stand I crawled into the guest room bed and cried my self painfully to sleep. I don't know why I stayed. Why I went to school and work, avoided questions and as many people as possible and still went home to him. To the abuse. Any time I said no to him about anything the abuse ensued until I passed out I would wake up blind folded and strapped to that same cross which was now a permanent fixture in his room. He would alternate between whip and wooden paddle. He never used the paddle the way it should be used everything he would use to hurt me was used from head to toe it was literally torture.

Fast forward about 4 months to the very last time I ever saw him. I came home from school. No work that day and he was already angry. His ex had just finished telling him he may not be the father of his Daughter ( whom she abandoned at his door step 3 months prior). And I flipped out told her she was a whore nd shoved her outside and told her she wasn't getting that kid back.

As soon as she was gone while having a smoke on the balcony he told me I had no right to talk to the mother of his child like that. I laughed and said "You have got to be kidding me right" he stood, kicked my chair over and said "you should know by now I don't kid with you" he picked me up by my throat and slammed my head against the cement wall that I'd grown so accustomed to a few times then holding me still by the throat tightening his grip so I couldn't breathe, hung me over the balcony 18 stories up and stared in my eyes as I slowly started to lose consciousness. I thought I was going to die this was it. My life was over. And I thought "At least I'll stop breathing before he lets go" and then he brought me back over the ledge and dropped me on the ground and proceeded to kick me over and over and over. Then I heard him call me a whore and say something along the lines of the world would be a better place if he had of just dropped me off the balcony. As I laid there gasping for air and trying to convince myself he loved me he was just angry I heard another voice. His neighbor, his best friend. Yelling at him about how he was sick of listening to me beg for my life. That he wasn't going to stand for it anymore and if he just let him take me home he wouldn't call the cops and tell them everything. I heard fists. Connecting to bodies I heard more yelling, but I couldn't quite make it out. I couldn't open my eyes. Then everything went quiet. The next thing I know I'm being handled so gently, being wrapped in a blanket. And I can hear his friend whispering "I can't believe this shit, look what he's done to you, why are you still here, god I can't believe this" as he lifts me up and carries me down the hall to the elevator. To the garage into his car. I must have slept or just blacked out. I don't know but he brought me back to where I was supposed to be living. He kept bringing me water and asking if I could see, holding up fingers asking how many. Waking me every few hours. When I finally had enough strength to wake and sit up he told me if he ever saw me back there he was going to call the cops and tell them I had drugs. But there was no way I was going back anyway. I knew then that if I did go back I would not be leaving alive.

6 months went by. I started a new school. I moved back in with family and I get a phone call from his mother telling me that he OD'D trying to kill himself. He was alive but brain dead and he had left a letter asking for me to be at his funeral. They were pulling the plug. She tried to beg me to come see him before they did telling me he loved me and needed to hear my voice before he was gone. I didn't go. And now he's gone.

Someone asked me recently "isn't it good that he's gone?" My answer is no

I wish he was here so I could tell him how fucked in the head I am because of him. How I can't look at a cross without anxiety surging through my body. How when someone calls me sweetie I want to cry. How I hate that his death was painless. How I wish I could torture him the way he tortured me. How I hate that he still haunts my nightmares.

I will never be the innocent happy person I was. I wouldn't change who I am now but I do also wish I could forget everything he did to me.


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