Falling

Summer of 2008

By the time summer came around, Elsie and I were hanging out more. She convinced me to make a MySpace account again and showed me how to use it. I remember telling me of this boy named Mark that she had met online. One day he friended me on MySpace, and I accepted. Instantly we hit it off and soon fell asleep on the phone together. It seemed like the start of something great.

Mark was two years older than me and our birthdays were exactly two weeks apart. I thought he was just the cutest thing, and I wanted to learn more about him.

But as we all know, sometimes looks can be deceiving.

We began hanging out all the time and occasionally smoked pot with his best friend and his cousin. We constantly went to concerts as that was my scene, and I loved to do it. I loved the way the bass felt, and seeing some of my favorite bands live made me feel more alive than anything in the world.

My summer consisted of feeling free to do whatever my heart desired, all with Mark by my side. We had what seemed to be the perfect relationship.

But then he wanted us to have a shared MySpace account and began to control everything, I did. I couldn't wear make-up, couldn't straighten my hair, and if I was on the phone, he needed to know who it was with; he had always put his hands on me.

Mark would scream, cry, kick and punch things if he didn't get his way. Almost like how toddlers throw tantrums, and I should've known it wasn't normal behavior.

But being young and dumb, you are naive and believe a lot of dumb shit.

I got pregnant right after my seventeenth birthday, and he acted excited. But this was all some sort of plan to try and trap me. I would get bitched at if I complained I was tired or my feet hurt. It was an issue if we were shopping and I needed to use the restroom because being pregnant was not an excuse he used to say. It was like I was what he wanted at first but eventually turned into his punching bag. His family would even threaten me as well throughout our time together.

Even though I was pregnant, it didn't stop cause I was his and only his.

March of 2010
I would sit in the bathroom and cry, talking to my belly, "it's okay, it won't always be like this.. we will get out of here someday." And the fights continued the yelling, the name-calling, and the emptiness that followed. Mark still controlled everything I did. I barely had a relationship with my parents and never spoke to my brothers. I wasn't allowed to talk to anyone besides him, and I couldn't work because I didn't have my license, and he wouldn't teach me how to drive. We moved in with his dad, who was a significant drunk.

I felt like I lived in prison, and there was no escaping.

October 2010
It was the same routine every morning, and he'd wake up, smoke a cigarette, take a shower, and get on the computer. At the same time, I did what a mother was supposed to do and take care of the baby.
Meanwhile, he bitched and complained that I asked for any help at all. I was getting nowhere by being with him, but I stayed another six months, and when Mark put his hands on me while holding my son, that was it.

I finally was tired enough to leave; I called my uncle and had him pick me up and thought to myself, we will finally be OK.