I won't go into detail on how young I was, or how he was older. I won't even tell you how naive I was because I'm sure you already know.
The first was grabbing my phone out of my hand. Then it all unraveled before I knew what was happening. I remember how sweet he was the first time he busted my lip. He was so sorry, so I thought. He cleaned my face up for me, and even cried in my lap for awhile. I couldn't have brushed that one off any quicker.
I remember how cold his eyes were when I was looking into them from under water. I was dying and my last sight was going to be these handsome, cold, evil eyes. His eyes faded and my eyes reopened when he picked me up from my hair. He was so strong.
I was guessing in my head what his next move was. Then I met the hard cement ground of the basement. I lie there naked and cold. I began vomiting not knowing if it was my nerves or the water coming up. Before I could catch my breath, his strong arm came crashing down on my throat. I could feel my face about to explode. Then my finger was being bitten, I screamed as the blood flowed down my hand and down his lip. I watched his face as he let me loose and began using the restroom, so calmly. As If nothing had happened.
I studied his body motion for a moment before I booked it. I grabbed a robe on my way out and made it out the first door quickly. The stairs slowed me down, and the second door. I was running so fast, I could almost touch the stop sign when a hand came crashing over my mouth. I must have been yelling for help, cause my mouth was dismantled. It felt has if it was in the incorrect spot. A whisper came to my ear "after everything I do for you. You are going to run from me, go clean your fucking mouth". My hands clenched the wall as I began to get up, leaving bloody handprints. I looked at myself in the mirror and couldn't make out who I was. Or who I had become.
Short story short. I'm in an empty apartment presently. I am free. I am a survivor. I wake up every morning, I thank god, I dance. I go to church. I go on dates. I feel beautiful. My abuser beat me, raped me, cheated, and infected me with something I'll always have. But he did not break me. I am a warrior!
Take a self defense class, work on yourself, get your hair done, get your confidence back. Life is a beautiful thing, truly. Don't waste your young beautiful years on a monster. And always remember that the devil doesn't come to you red with horns, he comes as everything you ever wanted.