She was a party girl, always fun to be around. She had a knack for making everyone around her laugh and pay attention to her. That was the problem, she always demanded attention, and she had a need for it. Mostly she craved the attention of men, but unfortunately the men she seemed to attract were not the kind she would bring home to meet the family. That is how she met him being a party girl, hanging out with all the wrong people. Drugs and booze were the standard in her life. She was fun when she got lit out of her mind and couldn’t remember the crazy stuff she did. Yeah, fun, but it also helped with the excuses she told herself the next day. The drugs and booze always allowed her to be someone else, a game she has master now. Inside she was dying to fit in, with the crowd. Inside she had a need as hot as fire to make them like her, no she needed them to love her.
It was at one of these parties that she met him. He was gorgeous, and she never dreamed he would give her the time of day, but he did. He showered her with attention, and she loved it, as she always did when men came into her life. It didn’t take long until they became lovers; it never seemed to take long. Her self respect was long gone after years of drinking, drugs, and men. This one seemed to know just how to play her, and he wanted more than the others did. He told her pretty lies, she knew they were lies, but she needed to believe them. He told her he loved her, and in a way he probably did.
She had been his and only his from the first night they met. They moved in together, and were happy for a little while, until she stopped the drugs and drinking. She slowly started to grow up and want things in life, a future, only to find that he could careless about giving her one. She started cutting off ties from her past, because he owned her. She couldn’t leave the house without his permission, so in order to keep him happy she gave in to his demands. She threw herself into her job, longing for more and more hours at work so she wouldn’t have to be home with him. She longed for a way out. Then the drugs, it is hard for a reformed party girl to handle all the drugs. She did though for awhile, and tried to figure out an escape. He was using more and more drugs now, and no matter how she begged him he wouldn’t quit. He just changed drugs of choice, the crank was the worse, and he was just mean when crank came into the picture. He loved the drugs, and he loved owing her. Seven years she had put up with the shit life. She knew she had to get out or she was going to end up dead.
She was clean and sober, and had been for a few years now; she was tired of fighting and needed some strength to do what she knew she had to do. She was planning her get away with every waking moment. She never knew he was on to the plan, but she remembers the night it all turned worse. Oh he had hit her before, a black eye every now and then, a broken nose once, lots of bruised ribs, he always liked hitting her there the best, and no one knew when they couldn’t see the marks. This night was very different though, the monster unleashed all his rage, this night. She was sitting talking on the phone to her sister, and he came storming through the door.
“Where the fuck is my lighter.” He demanded.
“I don’t know did you look over there on the coffee table?” She said.
She had never received a look like that from anyone in her life, a cold dead look that told her he may kill her tonight. She was scared to move as fear took over her body, a fear she had never experienced in all her life.
“Hey sis I need to let you go. I will call you back later.”
“What is going on, should I call the cops?”
“No don’t do that, I will call you in a bit ok.”
“Ok but if you don’t call me in the next hour I am calling the cops.”
“Ok bye talk to you later.”
In her heart she wished her sister would call the cops, but there was no way she was going to piss him off more than he was already. He lunged toward her as she hung up the phone, she buried her face with her hands, and he started beating her about the head and neck. His fists came down like hammers on her head; she could hardly make a sound. She whimpered for him to stop, but he didn’t. She was afraid to fight back, afraid it would provoke him more. She was afraid he was going to beat her to death. She tried to think what had she done to cause his rage, she must have done something. When the fists stopped hitting her, and she heard him walk off, she slowly opened her eyes. She got up and bolted for the door, and almost made it to the car, when he grabbed her arm and jerked her around so she could see the gun pointing at her.
“Get in the car.” He demanded. Frightened for her life she did as she was told.
He got in behind her still holding the gun pointing at her head.
She started the car and he gave her directions. She was in a panic, afraid if she messed up just once he would kill her. He made her drive to a deserted gravel pit, and told her to stop.
“I am going to kill you, you fucking bitch.”
She still doesn’t know where the courage came from, but she was calm all of a sudden. She often thinks that looking at death gives you the courage to fight. She looked him square in the eyes, she was unshaken now.
“You don’t have the fucking guts to kill me, and spend your life in prison.”
For some reason these words make him lower the gun and he started to cry.
“You are not leaving me. I can’t let you leave me, and I heard you talking to your sister about your big plan.”
She had thought that he was gone, and he was standing under the window listening to her pour her heart out to her sister, now she understood. He had often told her if she ever tried to leave him he would kill her.
“I am not leaving you. Where did you get an idea like that?”
“I heard you tell her.”
“No that is not what we were talking about. You should have listened to the whole conversation.” She lied.
She knew if she could just keep the upper hand it would all work out and she would walk away with her life.
He grabbed her and pulled her to him. She wrapped her arms around him and they cried together, and she knew she would come out ok. Bruised and battered, but with her life. He took her home and they make love, she was willing to do anything to keep him from beating her more or killing her. She was planning her next move as she lay there in his arms, and he told her all the usual lies. He was sorry and he would never hurt her again. He told her how much he needed her. She lied and told him she loved him, and would never leave. Fear will make even the most honest person lie.
She had told a friend at work, about the way he was and she trusted this friend. He had often said if she ever needed a place to go she could stay with him.
The next day she got out of bed, stiff and sore, and beaten, he was gone. She called her friend and he came and they loaded her belonging in a truck and trailer, and she never looked back. He would show up where she worked and try to follow her home, but she would never go home when she knew he was following her. The people at work always walked her to her car and they never left her alone anywhere he might be. After awhile he quit following her, and moved on to a new creature to lash out on. She often feels guilty, because she never told the other woman what she was in for, but the guilt doesn’t last. She knows if he had not found another he would still be tormenting her.