[xAddisonx1013]

This is ... idk just tell me what you think.


She walks into the party, music is blasting, people are laughing, taking slow sips of beer, knocking back shots, and a sense of uncertainty overtakes her. Coming was a mistake. She glances at her childish jeans, tee-shirt, make-up free face and then around the room at the array of high school sophomores in their sparkly tops and deep red lipstick. Just as she is about to turn and leave, feeling that an eight grader doesn’t belong at a high school party, she feels the tap on her shoulder.
“Wanna dance?” he says seductively. Her jaw drops slightly; his Irish brogue is entrancing, with hair as dark as night, and eyes a stunning jade green that compliment his olive skin tone. She knows him from around the school, Pierce Tacoma is his name. He has many friends, and many more girl-friends. He could have anyone easily.
‘So, why me?,’ she wonders silently.

And that’s where it all begins.

I wrapped my arms around him, locking my fingers between each other, and everything seems to melt away. I no longer felt like a little kid who wears her long blonde hair tied back in a pony tail. But I couldn’t seem to shake that lingering why did he pick me feeling. That is, until he kissed me. Moving a loose strand of hair away from my eye, he cupped my face in his hand and told me I was beautiful. I was speechless. No one had ever said that to me before. In that moment, I was gone; completely his.
Weeks passed and I was still in my “first kiss” daze, and before I knew it, he was introducing me as his “girlfriend, Kate”. Hearing those words for the first time brought a wide grin to my face, an unmistakable sense of belonging. I was dating the school stud and I was barely 14. I asked him once, the question that had been eating away at me, “Why me? You could have anyone…” and his answer was simple, and poetic. “Why not?”
Dating him seemed to change me, while I attended a catholic high school, and had to wear a plaid skirt each day, I began to dress up slightly; I entered a different community. I rolled my skirt up like the upperclassmen, left my top two shirt buttons un-done and wore make-up. I fit in with the upperclassmen because I was dating one of them. In their eyes, I was “cool”, where to kids my own age, I was nothing. I didn’t even know half of them by name.

She keeps her relationship a secret from her family because they are extremely conservative and the house had two major rules: No dating until you’re sixteen, and no drugs. Pierce was okay with the secret. He said he only wanted her.

Always and Forever.

So I’d sneak out to meet him, for years, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, his car always parked in the familiar spot at the end of my street. He always had clothes ready for me, saying he enjoyed being able to do little things like pick out my outfit. I didn’t see this as the first warning sign; I was too blinded by love.

She stares blankly at him. The words, the curses fly from his mouth, accusations unfounded. ‘When…’ she wonders, ‘would I have time to be with someone else?’ Tears well in her eyes, she can’t cry. Won’t allow herself. His fist connects with her cheek for the first time, its knocks loose those tears; it stings bitterly. They recoil from each other, He stares at his fist, like its unfamiliar, a weapon he never knew he had. The apologies begin to spew forth. She forgives him at once; it was a fluke and will never happen again.

But it does

I remember the taste of those first tears, the sting of the first bruise, and the way the first lie slid off my tongue, “I hit my head on the car door.” In retrospect, it sounds stupid, I never would have believed myself, why anyone else did, I don’t know. Maybe I’m not supposed to.

He tells her that she’s fat. That she’s ugly and no one but him could ever want her. Each day goes by, she feels like an empty shell; every move she makes, every step she takes is one executed to please him. Slowly she eats less, starving herself to try and become what he wants. What he wants can never be achieved, his desires are insatiable.
But she never stops trying.

. Things got progressively worse over the years, sixteen, then seventeen. I lost my friends, and the only community I belonged to was the one he allowed; his community. Where at the start of the relationship I felt he had given me a whole new community, in addition to the one I already had, I now felt isolated and alone. He was all I had, and when he wasn’t hitting me, it was great. I loved the way I fit perfectly into his arms, the way he pushed little hairs away from my eyes. And when we fought, I always felt it was my fault. Even after he hit me, I ended up apologizing. I was never unfaithful, never once had I lied to him, but it didn’t matter, everything was always my fault.

“Not tonight. I’m too tired,” she whispers, in the hopes he will see the exhaustion clearly marked on her face, and just let her sleep. She’s taking an immense course load her senior year, and felt overloaded. All she is asking for was one night off. He forces her back against a wall; she can already smell the vodka on his breath. Unfazed, it’s a smell she’d become used to, she can’t remember a time when he’s been sober lately. She struggles lightly, hoping his drunken state will weaken him. She feels a single tear escape her eyes; knowing her strength is no match for his, she lets him have her.

And continues to.

The lies came more easily as time went by; eventually people stopped asking questions. I became this quiet girl who only existed to please him. I wore my hair the way he demanded, and, my face always fresh and make-up free. I hadn’t made a decision on my own since I was fifteen.
So when I made the decision to go to college, even though it was against his wishes, he was furious. I told him that I needed to discover who I really was. He couldn’t seem to grasp that concept, but was willing to move to an apartment near the college campus. We could still be together; we would always be together.
That summer, I got a job as a teller in a bank. I needed to fund my education. Ecstatic about the future that awaited me, I always seemed to be happy at work. I made friends there; they liked me for who I was and never tried to change anything. I looked forward to going, to laughing and making jokes, something I hadn’t been able to do in a long time.

I went to work after he hit me once. The bruise a minor one, easily covered by my hair. But, I faltered and tied that back at one point, revealing it to everyone. And for the first time, I stuttered over a lie. They knew, and they wouldn’t let it continue.

And it doesn’t.

The next month was the hardest month of my life. I left for college; a new community, and my chance to start over. He called non-stop, even showed up at my dorm room a few times, but never once did I falter. He no longer owned me.
It’s not easy to cut ties with someone, especially someone who controls and intimidates you. He broke me, but in my new community setting, I have become someone else. My hair is no longer blonde, I’ve developed a sense of style, I love to dress up and wear make-up. The one piece of jewelry he bought me, a small three stone diamond ring, I still wear every day. It serves as a reminder of what I went through, and what I will never subject myself to again.

I’m not broken. I refuse to be.