A Survivor's Diary

2013 Continued

There were a few times that he went overboard that have really stuck with me.

Carah, him, and me were hanging out one day on a weekend I believe. We decided to go to his house for a bit because nobody was home. We hung out in his living room for a bit before he made me go into his bedroom with him. I knew what was coming and I didn't want to. I told him no. 
This time wasn't like the other times. The other times he was using his words to hurt me. Again, he started with words. He threw his lamp at the wall and it shattered. He then went to the closet to retrieve his gun.
I ran out, scared as hell. I hid in behind the wall in the living room. Carah looked at me, puzzled, and asked what was going on because she heard screaming. I told her what happened. She was scared, and suggested we call the cops.
I fucking told her no BECAUSE MY MOM DIDN'T KNOW I WAS THERE AND I WASN'T SUPPOSED TO BE THERE WITHOUT HIS MOTHER HOME.

We heard more banging around. When things got quiet, I snuck down the hall to see what he was doing. There was a new hole in his wall and he was sitting on his bed staring out the window, clutching a shotgun.

Quite fortunately, my PTSD has made me forget what happened after that, but I'm alive so I guess that's what matters, right?

It was the last day of sophomore year and we had a half day. I lived close to the school, so he and I decided to walk to my house, where nobody was home. Upon arrival, he immediately wanted to have sex with me. I was still a virgin at this point, even after he made me lie to everybody and say we had sex "so that he wouldn't seem like a loser".
I didn't want to. He gave me the same excuses as he did every time. To shut him up, I decided it wouldn't hurt to make out. We laid on my bed doing that when he started taking my clothes off. I started crying and telling him no. He didn't listen and proceeded. I began screaming as well as crying and he didn't stop. I finally got the strength to shove him off of me where I ran and hid in my bathtub. 

This one doesn't involve any sexual abuse, but it really sticks in my memory for some reason.
It was July, the day of a friend's birthday party at the river. It was a really fantastic day. He was there, and he had just gotten a car recently so we drove there feeling so cool. After the party, we were giving some of our friends a ride back to my house. I was loading things into his trunk to leave, and I guess when I shut it, the antenna was caught in the spoiler and kind of broke it. I didn't even notice. I sat down in the passenger seat and he had to throw one more thing in his trunk. 
Within seconds, he was screaming at me. I think every other word he said was fuck or fucking. For the first time in front of my friends. I kept trying to tell him I would pay for it to get fixed, but not even my reassurance was calming him down. It continued for a few more minutes before he started to drive. His anger showed in his driving. He was taking the corners at like 40 miles an hour. I honestly thought we were going to wreck. My friends were terrified.  

That relationship was the longest 9 months of my life. But it didn't end there.