Imagine

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By morning, I've improved a lot. They don't see a need to keep me over night, so they discharge me from the hospital. Dick drove my car to the hospital but he parked in a spot that he couldn't get out of so I had to do it myself and i drove home.
"You're such a bitch, Jess"
"Why?"
"You didn't let me drive," he crosses his arms and pouts like a 2 year old.
"Do you have a license?"
"Well no," he replies.
"Then shut up I really don't feel like arguing with you. Did you leave a voicemail for my mom?"
"Yeah, I just told her you were in the ER I didn't tell her anything else.
"Cool, so she really doesn't give a shit."
He nods, "I'm honestly sorry that she doesn't care Jess, I know it sucks. At least you have your grandparents now."
****
As time went on, my mom would call me on occasion and beg for me to talk to her. Ask me why I didn't want to deal with Richard anymore. Why wouldn't I just suck it up and take the beating anymore. I would just tell her because I'm done. Either she drops this whole needing me to talk to Richard or she can go for the door. And Dick supported me in that honestly. My mom didn't for obvious reasons.
She would call me at work, call me on my way home, tell me it was all my fault, and I would just screenshot all the texts and right after it happened I'd call my grandma and tell her send her screenshots. I did what I could to prove that I was innocent that I tried to keep my relationship with her, but I was standing my side and demanding respect that I deserved. That I wasn't letting myself be abused any further by her and that I was wanting better for my future child.
Better than what my mom gave me.
****
Though my grandparents call me, I still have never felt more alone in my life. My brothers side with my mom and step dad despite them admitting they were in the wrong, my child's father beats me and tried to make me miscarry because me and the baby are "ruining his life"... I just wish I was never alive.
I get up and I walk out to the fire escape. I climb all the way to the top and I look down from the roof.
If I jump... it's all over. If I jump... I could also live... and lose everything.
I go downstairs into my apartment and I grab the pocket knife my brother gave me and type out letters to everyone. My brothers, my parents, Dick, my grandparents. The only one I didn't write one to was Miguel. And it's not because I didn't care, no one would care enough to tell him... they would just say "she killed herself" and leave it at that. They wouldn't give him the note addressed to him... at all. And I knew that. I close my laptop and go back outside. I go to the roof and go to the edge and look down.
If I cut deep, then I wait till I pass out and fall off... it'll be a done deal... but then... I lose my baby...I always wanted to be a mother. It's my dream... maybe if I go home...? To my grandparents... they will help me with my baby... I can start over... finish school... get a good job... support me and the baby...
I step back from the ledge then I go back to my apartment. When I grab my phone, I shoot my grandmother a text asking her if we can plan for me to come home.
****
At this point, Dick hasn't worked in a few months.... But he's spending all my money and if I try to pay rent or pay any bills he flips.
The last time I asked him to stop spending my money and to please help around the house I ended up with a black and blue crotch. I'm terrified of what could happen if I ask him to do more. My first semester at a community college has started today, and I'm hoping it'll be better, but as soon as I get my hopes up he texts me that because I asked him to do the dishes so I could cook dinner when I got home from classes, that he was going to kill himself but not in the apartment so that I don't complain about the mess.
What the hell... why is he doing this?
I excuse myself from my second class then I drive my way home. When I get there I walk in and he's just finishing up the dishes.
"Hey, is everything alright? I just wanted the dishes done so I could cook you dinner tonight..."
"Oh everything is great, since I'm such a pain though I'm going to just leave and kill myself."
"...I... what? I just asked you to wash the dishes why is that so complicated? Why does that mean I think you're a pain?"
"I just assumed, because I'm always just sitting around."
"Well im not trying to be an asshole right now Dick but I leave for work and work 12 hours but the dishes aren't done there's more there than there were when I left actually the counters are almost always a mess and I can only do so much to keep up with it. I'm pregnant... I'm exhausted, I'm underweight. I just need some help with the upkeep."
As I finish my sentence he pushes past me and I see a notification on his phone, from a girl.
"Who's texting you?" As I reach for his phone he shoves me into the fridge and I feel my shoulder and head get slammed against it. I freeze for a moment and gather myself then I turn to look at him and I walk towards the bedroom. I put his clothes in his bag and I grab anything that is his including phone chargers and anything extra. After I do that I walk to the door and open it and place the bag of stuff on the porch, then I look at him.
"Get out of my apartment."
"What, Jessie no don't leave me."
"I said get out."
He slams the door then pushes himself in front of it so I don't open it again.
"Get out of my apartment before I call the cops. You just shoved me into the fridge, I'm pregnant, and I don't want you hurting me or the baby further, get. Out."
"NO. NO JESSIE PLEASE PLEASE YOU CANT JUST MAKE ME LEAVE"
"Get out I don't want you here we can figure out how things will go with the baby later just get. Out."
He charges towards me then grabs me by my throat and pushes me back against the counter, "you are the reason I hate myself, you are ruining me, you are the reason I want to die, you and that baby are making me want to fuckiNG KILL MYSELF." He grabs the knife and holds it to my throat, "you... you're not allowed to fucking leave me, you are mine. You, will not, WILL NOT, leave me for anyone else. And if you decide to leave I will fucking kill you."
I feel myself starting to not be able to breathe, I can't panic right now a strained, "please... please" leaves my lips. One wrong move and I'm dead... so is this baby. "I'll stay... I'll stay... please..." I'm trying to beg at this point. I don't know what to do, "I love you... only you... please."
When I say that the anger melts from his face and he makes a dash for the bedroom and when I walk in he's holding the knife to his throat, "give me reasons why I shouldn't tell me why. I almost killed you and our child. I don't deserve to live."
He's not wrong, but I really don't need more trauma right now. I can't fucking do this.
I tackle him and get the knife from him by punching him in the face to stun him then grabbing the knife when it dropped to the floor. I then kick him and run.

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