I was a victim of domestic violence. It all started when I was 17, and I'd met what I thought was my dream partner. We were best friends. He was kind, loving, the bestest friend I could ever have. I turned 18 and it went down hill.
I found some drugs hidden in his room. He had been taken drugs, and I noticed that he had developed this horrible aggressive temper and horrible tone in his voice. One day we woke up, and he was in a foul mood. I asked him what was the matter, and he flipped for no reason; pushed me away. I thought then we maybe had to sit down and speak about what was up. Before I had the chance to say anything, he got angry about something his brother had said and threw a glass to the other side of the room; just missing me. I remember clearly saying "hey, hey, listen, calm down, whats the matter?"
He then turned around and looked at me with what I could describe as devil's eyes -- so much anger. I felt shaky and scared. I went to walk away, and before I could take one step away he pulled my hair from behind and said "your not going anywhere bitch. This mess (from the glass) is your fault. Tidy it up." I did what he said and forgot about that one incident.
The next day he had work and again woke up in a foul mood. I wasn't very well this particular morning. I was sick and had a high temp so I wanted to stay in bed a little longer. He turned around and said "get the fuck out of that bed now you lazy cow." I said "no I felt very ill," so he grabbed my hair again and punched my upper arm. I was shocked and got up and tried to run out, but he ran in front of me, slammed the door shut, and then pulled my hair again and punched my stomach and said "you cant go nowhere you'll tell what just happened."
He locked the door and said "I've started, I might as well finish it." I felt like I was going to die. I couldn't breath due to the blow to my stomach. He went and locked the door behind him and took my phone and said "I love you and I'm very sorry what I did. I just need air. Please don't go anywhere." He then said "I know you hate me right now, but I promise I'll make it up to you. I'm deeply sorry." Then, he strangely said "please could you tidy my room?" So I thought I needed to do this for him so I could get away after. The nicer and more accepting I was, I thought it was a key to get out.
But, he came home, shut the door behind, and said in a slow voice "what the hell did I say? Didn't you tidy up?" I said "I did I promise." So we argued for a good 15 minutes before he got very angry again. I felt like I needed to scream, but I thought it'll only be worse if I did. So like a little girl, I did what I was told to do. He then forced me to do a sexual act on him that I'd never done before, and I pleaded not to make me do it. He pushed me away, kicked my side, and punched me several times on my arm. I said "please stop it hurts, please I cant feel my arm." My arm had been punched so much so that he decided to do the other arm. Then said, "there its equal."
I'm terrified at this moment. I went limp and cried what I thought was my last tear. I past out and woke up him with ice packed on my arms again saying sorry. A few days went by, and I tried to get away; saying “please let me go, you can trust me. I’m only going to the shop.” He let me out of the house for fresh air, but didn’t leave my side. He forgot his keys to his car, so he sat me on the step and told the neighbour “watch her please, she’s not feeling well, just going in and worried she will faint. The neighbour asked if I was ok. I said “yes fine, you can go in.” He went in, and I ran for it. I was in terrible pain still, but I knew I had to run for it or he will kill me if I stayed any longer.
I felt so weak that I had to stop, so I stopped outside a school thinking I’d be safe if he caught me. Well, he caught me and didn’t even care who was around. He back handed me in the face and dragged me into the car. Within minutes my eyes had swollen to the size of a golf ball, and started to go blue and bloody straight away. We went back to his home and he threatened to call girls to beat me up. I pleaded so many times in floods of tears, saying “why you doing this, I love you and treat you well, why, please tell me why you want to hurt me so much.” He said, “I have so much anger I need to let out and your just there.
We sat in silence, and he looked worried and said “I’m in trouble aren’t I.” I said “why?” He replied “because I’ve beaten you black and blue. I never realized coz I smoke too much drugs. I’m a monster,” he cried and pleaded for me to forgive him. I assured him it was ok. I wouldn’t say anything if he stopped right now. He said “yes”, and I believed him. He went outside while I had a sleep, and I could see him from the window smoking. I could smell it wasn’t a cigarette. I went to go toilet and noticed the door was locked. I shouted “I need the toilet please. Can I get out?” He ran up and unlocked the door so I could go. No anger, no problems, he just let me go.
Then we sat and watched telly, and he turned to the table, and I said “what you doing?” He said “none of your business.” I kept shut and didn’t want to upset him. I saw he was rolling another "roll up.” I said “you said you wouldn’t do that again,” and he said “no, I said I wouldn’t hit you. Shut up or I’ll turn and I’ll do it. I said “ok ok fine, do what you want.” I genuinely didn’t mean to say it with a bad tone, but because he had been smoking he heard a tone he didn’t like. He got up and said “I’m getting angry. Don’t talk to me. Don’t even look at me.” I said “ok.” He turned around quickly and said “right, I don’t know why but you’re really fucking annoying me”, and he shouted and went red with anger. He then went under his bed and pulled out a knife, a really big sharp knife. I froze. He pushed me against the wall and said “don’t say a fucking word. This is how you make me feel.” He sliced his right arm and then said “I cant harm myself. Your not worth it.” Within seconds I had that knife in my right arm, very deep in, and he pulled it down my arm. It was wide open. I could not at that point feel pain, as I was more in shock. I lost a lot of blood, but he wouldn’t let me go to hospital, so he pushed the wound together and taped it up until morning.
I sat in corner with my arm resting my knees, I thought my life was over. A few days had past, and he done a lot more to me as the days went on, and I just couldn’t get away from this nightmare I was in. No matter how hard I thought of planning to escape, I just couldn’t do it. Eventually months went on, and he calmed down. He went to work, trusted me enough to think I wouldn’t leave the house, and so he left the place unlocked. I finally had the freedom to run. I ran so so far, but there was no phone or person in site. I eventually got to my friends and stayed there for a while. I reported him, and eventually with a recored phone call of him pleading to me he didn’t mean, it was enough to send him down.
I was safe at last. A few days after I knew why I was unwell, I was pregnant, and in shock at how I ended full term with a healthy baby girl. I thought I wouldn’t be able to look at her in case she looked like him. But she was mine, and I love her so so much. It’s been 9 years now and I’m stuck with this memory, not because I have his child but because of the huge scar he left on my arm from the stabbing, something I’m stuck with for life.