My Abusive ExBoyfriend Just Got Out Of Jail

My Abusive ExBoyfriend (Prologue and Chapter 1)

*Alright so I've never written this kind of story before in this kind of format so please try to give some helpful feedback*

*Don't leave annoying read my tory messages unless you actually think that i'd like them, if i get to many then i really won't read any bodies stories*

Prologue

I sat on the couch, like the ones you see in movies. My doctor had just asked me for the 5th time, "and how does that make you feel?" It was getting pretty old. How does she think that my Abusive Ex boyfriend getting out of jail makes me feel? Like crap that's how it makes me stinking feel. I know everyone says this is good for me but it isn't helping. Every time I close my eyes I see his hand coming towards me. Every time I wake up I'm scared to open my eyes and still be in that small, dirty closet. Living in a closet for 6 months takes its toll on you mental health. Apparently it makes people think you're crazy. Yeah they believe what happens but after about a week and for a few people a month, it doesn't matter anymore. Your old news, and so they tell you go to therapy, see a doctor get over it. I can't get over it.

Chapter one

~Past~

"Jeremy I love you." I whispered in his ear. I was 26; my boyfriend was 29, mistake number one.

"I love you to Gabs." He whispered back. He was an alcoholic and at the moment drunk, mistake number two.

"When do you think we can go on that trip to the beach you've been promising me for a year," I asked. He didn't answer. I stood and pulled away from where I was sitting in his lap. He just sat there in silence holding his beer. I shook my head and laughed. That's the way it always happened, he ignored what I asked and wouldn't give me an answer.

I turned to leave, id had enough for the night. He stood up and grabbed my wrist and pulled me backwards. I landed on my back on the hard wood floor. He just stood there starring at me, not caring if I was hurt, it's ok, because I was used to it.

I stood and grabbed my purse and headed out the door, but he closed before I could get my foot out. He pushed me away and hit me on the cheek. It wasn't the first time something like this had happened, and I knew I wouldn't be the last.

"Who said you could get and leave b@#ch?" he screamed in my face, the smell of alcohol being overwhelming. Tears were running out of my eyes and I didn't answer quickly enough so he hit me again with his bottle, the glass breaking and cutting open my face. Blood was flowing out so he threw a towel at me. He was mad now and that meant I was stuck here until the boos made him past out.

I sat there dabbing my face, id have to go to the hospital this time, because I could feel the glass shards still in the wound. My blue eyes still had tears coming out, and my blonde hair was stained red on my right side of my face. That's the side he hit me on. I was shaking and scared but he didn't care. He sat on the opposite side of the room from me on the couch and laughed when I started crying to hard.

After about 15 minutes the cut finally stopped bleeding. He was bored by then so he stood up grabbed a handful of my hair and sat me on the couch next to him. A fresh bottle of beer was in his hand and his other one was rubbing my shoulder. Whenever he looked at me I smiled, id already learned my lesson about that. He kissed my cheek and whispered, "I love you." He thought those words fixed anything. He was wrong about that."

~Present~

I woke up crying just like every other day. I had my nightmare, the one where I opened my eyes and he was there screaming in my face. His green eyes filled with anger and his short hair was wet from when I hit the bottle and his beer spilled on him.

I stood up and walked to the mirror. I was a mess, bags under my eyes, scars on my cheeks, it wasn't pretty. My old tee shirt was torn and my sweat pants had blood on them. I must have been fighting in my sleep again. I pulled up my pants leg and there it was the nail marks I had made last night right next to the ones I had made the night before.

I went and got a shower, I had a meeting with a councilor this morning discussing what my options were when he was released. The hot water of my shower hit my head but it didn't distract me from what I was thinking about. He was going to kill me. My therapist and councilor (yep so messed up that I had both) told me I was being paranoid and that applying for a restraining order would protect me. I knew Jeremy and I knew it wouldn't.

I got dress and tried to cover up my scars with makeup but failed like always, they were too deep and noticeable. I got in my car; it was a piece of junk. I hated it but I had to get something since I sold my old one.

My old car was my dream car but Jeremy bought it for me, so I sold it first chance I got. Just like my apartment. The old one was a pent house that over looked the ocean, but again he had paid for it and had been there so I sold it. Any where we went together I couldn't go any more without having a panic attack. I know it sounds crazy but I can't handle thinking about him or being near anything that reminds me of him, so yeah, maybe I am crazy, but so would you be if you went through it.