Terror

What's it like living a life of terror you ask? Or maybe you don't have to...maybe you yourself are living one and you need to know you are not alone. Either way I am going to take you through the terror stricken thoughts of a 15 year old girl who's afraid she is going to die.

Oh God he's getting worse. Before I realized what was happening, my fun loving boyfriend has turned into a hideous monster, a devil, a torturer. I have to go to school and act like everything is ok, and all the while hope that the makeup that I so carefully applied to hide the wounds and bruises and still be unnoticeable stays in place. If anyone asks me I know I will end up spilling this sordid story and if I do that I am afraid I will not live to see 16. God where will this end? Will it end with me in a body bag? Or will I find the strength and courage to get out of this with my life intact? He tells me that if I tell anyone he raped me or beat me that he will stick the knife deep inside me and rip me open to my belly button...from the scars that knife has already made I have no doubts that he will. How can I escape? Where can I turn? Will my parents believe me? Or will they say its my fault? Will my grandmother be disappointed in me that I let this happen? I must have done something to deserve this.

smile Heather...now give him a hug...act like you still love him...no don't tense up he will notice..look into his eyes...was that a flicker of realization there? No not that smile! That slow lazy smirk means you are gonna get it...smile at him tell him you love him...maybe he will forget what he has in mind. Pray your hand isn't cold and damp when he takes it....hope he doesn't see the loathing in your eyes. No don't wince when he squeezes your hand threatening to crush it. Resist...resist...bite your lip if you must...but don't let him see the pain. Sigh with relief there's the homeroom bell 2 classes until you have to go through this again...be thankful all you got was a bruised hand this time because if you hadn't been in school who knows what would have happened.

WARNING!! below is a very graphic account of an abuse episode. Please be careful reading it if it may trigger you.

Sitting beside him on the couch trying to watch a movie...constantly watching out of the corner of my eye to see what he's doing. Dreading the times when he pulls out the knife. Knowing I am going to feel the cold steel of the blade slicing into my skin...just not knowing where. Of course he is smart...he stabs me in places most people won't see...in the upper thigh, on my chest, my stomach. I see him reaching in his pocket and know what is coming. How I wish I could just run from the room! But I have already been warned and its too awful to repeat...so i sit and his hand grabs my wrist like an iron manacle i know that's one more place i will have to put makeup to hide the marks. I feel his eyes looking at me trying to determine where to strike. I swallow hard and look down...he forces my head up. I try to avert my eyes and he tells me to look at him or he will make it worse. He wants to see the expression in my eyes when the knife sinks into my flesh. look into his cold eyes and see that twisted smirk upon his face and feel the cold blade of the knife pressing against my thigh. I bite my lip as i feel the knife blade sinking deep into my leg slowly. Of course he wont rush it. He wants to savor the pain in my eyes. when he has the knife all the way in he gives it a turn and slowly pulls it back out. I taste blood in my mouth where I have bit my lip to keep from screaming. After he pulls the knife out he gets me some paper towels and tells me I better take care of it or else I could get a bad infection. Then he looks at me with tears in his eyes and says "Why do you make me do this to you? If only you would be good.."