Facts About just Revealed





The worst times. College. My boyfriend. The first time he hit me, I think somehow I knew it wasn't going to be the last time. Even when he cried and kissed my swelling and rapidly darkening eye. "I'm sorry, Princess. I'm so sorry. I swear I'll never do this again. I just get so mad because I love you so much." Yeah right. Very quickly the abuse became a daily thing. I remember the first time he broke my ribs. We were fighting about something and I tried to leave my dormroom. He grabbed me by the waist and picked me up and threw me up and into the side of the heavy wooden bunk bed. I must have bent just the right way to snap those four ribs. I laid there for two days before I could get him to take me into Sylva to the hospital. I had sodas in the fridge. He said he would bring me food. He never did. He only checked on me when he knew he would be seen by the girls on the floor. After that, I just tried not to cross him. It didn't work for long. As bad as the hitting got, and it was bad, the mental stuff was worse. That is what I carry with me. Slowly, he crawled under my skin and up into my brain. sometimes it feels like he's still there. After he isolated me from every girlfriend I had, he began convincing me to change my major. I almost did. I would have if I hadn't left school. I used to sleep on the cement floor of his dormroom every night after he would fuck me. At least he gave me a blanket. Although I have talked to a select few about that didn night at the Lamda Chi Alpha house, I just can't seem to bring myself to write it down. Maybe someday. The worst moment....the most helpless and hopeless I have ever felt was one afternoon when he had really lost control. He was usually very careful to hit me in the body so the bruises were not visible. When he did hit my face, he hit it hard enough to hurt and bruise but never enough to swell and bleed. It would just be too obvious. Too hard to cover up. My left eye was cut and blood was running down my face, my lip was split and he had torn my shirt half off. I bolted out the door and lamost made it to the end of the hall. I don't even remember what made me run. One of his frat brothers opened the stairwell door at that moment. His room was right at the end of the hall. By this time he had caught up to me and had me by one arm and my hair and began dragging me back up the hall to his room. I remember looking dead into the eyes of the frat brat brother pleading "Please help me." He looked away, went into his room. He never lifted a finger. I still remember the sound of his deadbolt locking. After that, I didn't fight back...ever.

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