It’s been about a week now and I haven’t been able to say anything about it. It’s been going on for a while, more than just last week. It’s different than what people think… It’s not really how it is with him. Most people would say something like “you’re crazy,” “you’re stupid.” But I think of it differently. If you really love someone you deal with their flaws, and I really love him.
It’s been getting worse and worse gradually. I get scared sometimes but really it’s just something that I want to deal with on my own. It’s something that I want to be able to handle on my own. It’s something I wish other people would understand. I used to be that way; I used to think about this the way that others think about me now. I used to be the exact. Same. Way. It’s different now though, its way different. People need to understand what goes through my mind... then they would know why it’s different. This boy does things for a reason; I mean we all do things for a reason. But last week was really bad. It’s the worst it’s been for him and for me and I know there’s no way to change anything with what happened. I think the worst part about all this, is that it’s still going on…
Last week he beat me. He beat me to the point where I was bleeding in multiple places, my arms, my face, my chest, and my stomach. He wasn’t just beating me with his fists this time either. He used the broken pieces of the chair. I knew he was upset, and I knew he would be taking it out on me; I just wasn’t sure on when he was going to.
It all started two weeks before that though…. He had been angry for a really long time. He was upset about not making it to the college of his dreams for football. He had his hopes up really high about this school so I know not making it was going to be so painful for him, and when I had heard the news that day about it, I made the mistake of bringing it up with him. I told him I was sorry that he didn’t make it, and then he threw me up against the wall and he was choking me while he told me how much he was really looking forward to this, and that if I ever brought it up again he would throw me away.
That was the only time I had ever told anyone what happened. I told Andrea, my best friend, about what had happened and she called the police. The police arrived at his house that same day and I was very afraid. I figured something was going to happen to me when they showed up there. I asked Andrea about it, and she told me it was her that called them. That night I went home and I sat in my room and cried. I didn’t know what I was going to do. I wanted to see him, to comfort him so bad, just be with him, but I knew if I went to him that day that he was going to do something else.
But sitting there crying made me think…. He did what he did because I had brought up something that was really hard for him to handle. It was my mistake and this time I knew not to do that. So I thought about it a little more before I picked up my phone to call him. I punched in his number into my phone and as it rang my heart beat and a smile grew across my face. I’m not sure what it was about this boy that drove me crazy, but he was gorgeous.
He was so tall compared to me, and there was always something I liked about a tall boy, the fact that he could tower over me, making me feel protected and loved. It was an amazing feeling I got from it. He also had the most gorgeous black hair that just about covered all the showing skin on his scalp. It was short but super manly and handsome. He also had these beautiful brown eyes that went good with his tanned skin. It was amazing to look at him. I paid close attention to his personally since that first day….
He picked up the phone and asked me why I called him. I told him that I wanted to see him that night. There was a long silence on the phone and I thought that maybe he’d hung up on me. Then he said the most chilling thing to me that I’ve ever heard. Through the earpiece I heard, “listen bitch, you better never pull shit like that ever again or you’re going to regret it. You got that bitch?” I was shocked… I’ve never been spoken to like that ever in my life. I paused for a moment. I didn’t say anything for a minute before I said, I understand. Then he said that was god and he hung up on me. I sat in my room the rest of the night crying.
My parents were never aware of what was going on in my life after that. They never found out how bad he was to me. They only knew of him being that sweet boy with the most gentlemanly manners. He was nice in front of them, but behind the closed door, he was a monster.
For the next couple days I didn’t say a word to him. I didn’t speak to him at all, not even through texting or the internet. I talked with Andrea and told him that we hadn’t been speaking, and she told me she was proud of me. She told me that she thinks I’m doing the right thing by not engaging in any more conversations with him, and that she hopes with not talking to him that he’ll slowly go away and not hurt me anymore. I told her I agreed when in my mind, I never wanted to leave him.
That same morning I stopped at my locker for the first time, and there were flowers stuffed inside my locker. I couldn’t stop smiling after that moment because there was a note with them from him saying that he was sorry for everything. I showed the note and flowers to Andrea hoping it would change her opinion. It didn’t. She was still upset about the whole situation. I didn’t say any more to her that day. I couldn’t because I knew her opinions and everything. I didn’t want her to hate me, but I also didn’t want him to go. The flowers and the note were the nicest things anyone’s ever given me, especially since he went through all the trouble of finding my locker combination and putting them in there.
I went over to his house that night to talk with him. I told him that what he said on the phone really hurt me. He apologized again for that and we kissed. We held each other and watched a movie; a movie that he chose…and that was one of my favorite things to do. After that we went up to his room. His parents had just left to go out to dinner for their anniversary. That was when the next incident happened. He was trying to get me to have sex with him. I told him no repeatedly, that I just wasn’t ready for this. He hit me and told me I was going to do it. We were sitting on his bed not saying anything for a really long time. Then he told me he was sorry again, and that he didn’t mean to hurt me this way. I didn’t look up at him, and I got up and headed for the door. That pissed him off. He grabbed my arm and pulled me back, asked me where I was going. I told him that I was going home, that I was upset. He told me no. He told me I wasn’t leaving anymore and that I was never going to leave him because he loved me. I wanted to believe him because I really did love him too. At that moment I told him to let go and let me leave. I tried pulling away from his grasp but he only grabbed my arm tighter. He was starting to pull me back and I was getting terrified. I didn’t want him to beat me at all…I just wanted to leave. But he continued to pull on my arm until the pain forced me into his arms. He told me that I wasn’t leaving and that we were going to have sex. He smacked me a few more times across the face as I struggled to get away from him. He wouldn’t let go of me. I didn’t want to do it with him, and I wished he would’ve just let me leave, but he didn’t…
That night he raped me. I’ve never cried more in my life than I did that night. I couldn’t stop crying. This was something that I kept to myself. I never told Andrea about what happened that night because I knew that that was something she would never be able to handle him doing to me. She was someone who cared about me more than anyone else. We’d been best friends forever.
Andrea and I first met each other when we were 2. We went to the same day care together. We instantly became baby friends because we only let each other play with the colored building blocks. We never let anyone else play with them because we thought that we were the only ones that were good enough for them. Ever since then, we did the same things all the time. Throughout elementary school we were always together, even if we were in separate classes we would always do the same things. But now, it seems like we’ve been separated. It seems like we haven’t really been that close, granted we haven’t because I’ve had to hide things from her, but I miss her. I missed her a lot.
That night she called me. I couldn’t get my voice to function right when she called so she knew something was up. She tried over and over again to get me to tell her what was wrong, but she couldn’t get me to crack. I didn’t say anything about what he had done to me, and I wouldn’t ever tell.
Soon after that call with her, the cops showed up at my house. They said there was someone who needed help with an assault, but I lied and said nothing was wrong, but then they saw bruises on my arms and neck and decided to take me out of my home. They thought there might have been something going on in my family, but that wasn’t the case.
I spent the night in a hospital psych ward. It was supposed to be a way to get me help, but I told them over and over again that there was nothing going on. There was nothing for me to tell them. I said I just wanted to see my boyfriend, my boyfriend who loves me and cherishes me, and would never let anyone else hurt me. I said that he was the greatest boyfriend in the world, the greatest friend anyone could have. They were only able to keep me there for three days before I was released.
Soon after those three days, he was there, waiting to pick me up. I didn’t want to get in the car with him at first, but seeing his face was a refreshing reminder that he was still here with me, and he was something familiar. It was good seeing a familiar face compared to the white walls that I was surrounded by. So I got into his car. He apologized for the time before, about the rape, and about how he grabbed me. It was a nice moment…a break between what had been going on…it was really nice.
It didn’t take long before we were back to being the way we were. It was getting worse though. Not only was he using his fists this time, he was starting to use whatever he had in his hands at the time. It was hurting me to keep doing this, but it makes me stronger knowing I can fight this to be with the one I love. He was even more violent that he used to be, and everything made him angry. The smallest thing made him go ballistic, like if I didn’t do something for him right away he would beat me. But I continued to stay with him, because I’ve learned to love this about him.
Then happened the worst of the worst. It was what happened last week. I went over to his house that day. It was all fine until I brought something up about wanted to hang out with Andrea. He told me that I was acting stupid for thinking about her; then he called her a slut and said that I shouldn’t be hanging around with those kinds of people. Inside I wanted to cry because he was talking about my best friend, but I decided to speak my mind for once, which was a huge mistake. I asked him why he didn’t like her, and before he could answer I told him that he should respect her because she’s MY best friend. He didn’t have to like her but he needed to respect her. For that I got a smack across the face. I was stunned in place for a while before I spoke again. I was just able to get the couple words out before I was being slapped repeatedly, left to right, up and down. I said “it’s over.” He beat me continuously for an hour. He had broken a chair in his living room and was whipping me with the jagged edges of the broken wood. It was horrifying, like something you would see in a movie. My blood was all over the floor. It wasn’t much, but with my blurred vision it was enough for me to see. It was hard to get out of there that day, but he had thrown me out the door. I dragged myself home and at that point I had to tell Andrea what was going on. I told her everything that happened that day, she didn’t want to talk to me, but being the good friend she is, she was supportive and comforted me.
Since then I haven’t been around him. I’ve been so afraid that if I went around him he would continue and it would be worse than it was that day. I don’t know what I did to deserve it that time, but I had had enough of his crap. I was officially done. I was finally listening to what my friend had been telling me the entire time, and I had finally been able to see it.
I guess according to him, we were still together, and that I was still his. I couldn’t talk to anyone anymore. In school everyone was scared of me. They thought that if they spoke to me they would get killed by my “boyfriend”. It was irritating. I told people that it was over, that there was nothing to worry about, but nobody wanted to believe me. After that, rumors started going around that he was beating me. Technically it wasn’t a rumor, but to what everyone else knew, it was. It proved the bruises and the scars, but I had my own justifications.
Today is a different day. I’ve been sitting in my math class thinking to myself. Not of anything particularly, but about prom. Prom was coming up and I really wanted to go. I wanted to go with someone nice. There was this boy I was starting to get a little friendly with, and friendly is all I really mean. He was really nice, and he looked past the information of me belong to “him.” This boy’s name was Neil. We started hanging out a few days ago, but I really think I like him! It’s refreshing to know that I’m not stuck in that place anymore. My bruises and scars were finally starting to heal, and he hasn’t spoken to me since that day last week.
The day progressed and I was sitting at home like I normally did after school, but today is different. Neil was with me. He drove me home from school today and we were able to talk, get to know each other. He sat here in the living room with me and we talked about each other’s lives. We talked about all the things we liked, and all the things we hated. He was the kind of boy I knew would never do anything to hurt me, because even if he bumped into me, he apologized right away, and he continued apologized until I would hug him and tell him it was okay. He was nice, I like him.
Just then, my phone rang. I didn’t think much of it when I answered it, so I answered it casually with just a simple hello. The other voice was kind of scratchy, so I wasn’t really able to tell who it was. The voice asked me what I was doing. I said that I was hanging out with a friend. The voice asked me who, and I said his name, Neil. The other line hung up. I had the sudden realization that this voice was his. It wasn’t anyone else’s, it couldn’t have been.
I grabbed Neil’s arm and told him we had no time, and we needed to get the hell out of my house. By the time I grabbed a few things He was already outside parked in his car. I was shaking as I grabbed the last of my things. Neil yelled my name and told me that “he” was here. I rushed and hurried as fast as I could. I grabbed Neil’s arms again and dragged him out the back door. It was no use going out the front with his car out there.
We didn’t get very far, before the sound of two gunshots went off. Next thing I knew, I was on the ground laying in Neil’s arms. Neil’s innocent arms. At that moment I saw a white light, and I knew I was dead. I knew Neil was dead. He had killed me and an innocent boy.
Ever since my life had been taken, no one knows why he had been that way. No one knows why he did the things he did. If I could’ve gone back, I know now that I shouldn’t have put up with anything that he put me through.
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