My story

A Bet with the Devil Himself

***trigger warning.
If you get easily triggered, or can't handle mentions of sexual abuse, pressure, manipulation or self harm, this chapter IS NOT for you***

Michael and I officially got back together around the middle of October.
He was desperate to not be alone, and I was desperate to feel loved.

I have never felt so alone in my life.

Friends abandoned me because I stayed with him, and I don't blame them.
I was naive and scared of what could happen if I left 100 percent.
My parents were so upset that I chose to stay with him. And I don't blame them. I wouldn't want someone I care about to choose to continuously be hurt by a person who wasn't worth it.

As I continued to stay with him, I started to look back at our entire relationship, and my eyes started to open to even more red flags I should've noticed sooner.
Things I let happen, things I shouldn't have been okay with, or times I should've learned the words 'no' or 'stop'.

———
For example, earlier the year in April, I was put in a position that i should've reacted to differently.
It was one day when Michael picked me up from school since I got out early.
We headed back to his place and got food.
And as you can assume, we had sex.
I remember admitting to not really being in the mood and was content just watching tv and cuddling.
But push came to shove, and I caved in.
Even when I said no, he would keep putting his hands down my pants and touching me.
Shushing me by kissing me, and treating me a bit rough.

And yeah I'll admit, when Michael and I first started dating, I liked the idea of rough sex, and BDSM.
He changed my mind really fast on those things, but I was too scared he would stop loving me if I wasn't sexually into the things he wanted me to be into.
So I did a lot that was out of my comfort zone.
It even got to point where I would always ask him what we were doing or why he asked me to do things.
And his response all the time?
"Oh my goodness stop questioning me and just trust me! You never let me surprise you!"
He would guilt trip me to doing these things I never wanted.

So back to the April scene.
He just kept going, so I caved.
We ended up in his room, as usual.
I was always the one that ended up fully naked, even if I didn't want to. But he said I was beautiful, so I should've been okay with it, right?
He said he was the only one who could love my scars, and ugly marks that covered my body, and he was the only one who would appreciate my body despite me continuing to self harm.

He had this thing for my legs, and I'm not sure why.
But this time, he took his liking too far.
He was kissing my thighs, and I let him because I was enjoying it. I stopped enjoying it the second he bit down on my inner thigh.

There's a difference between pleasure and pain, and that was something he didn't know.

I flinched and even yelped a bit the first time he bit down. And for some reason, whenever I flinched or made any noise of distress, that was a turn on for him, and he always took my distress and a green light.
He kept biting down harshly on my inner thighs and i felt my eyes water. It hurt so much.
I even would tug back on his hair roughly, trying to pull him away. But he would just grab me tighter and bite harder.
These weren't love bites, this was unwanted bruising.
I was okay with the idea at first, thinking maybe he'd give my legs kisses, and maybe gently give me one or two hickeys on my inner thighs.
Cute idea, right?
But that day, I left his house in pain.
My inner thighs covered in these big ugly blotchy bruises that he would repeatedly bite into to darken, or would shove his thumb into, thinking I enjoyed the pain.
My jeans would give me aches, and simply walking was such a painful experience.
But it was love to me, and I knew no better.
———
Things like that April scene happened all the times.
Unwanted hickeys, unwanted bruises, unwanted rough sex, unwanted cuts on my wrists from handcuffs being too tight, unwanted car sex.
But I slapped on a smile every single time, and my best acting skills to make him happy.

But nonetheless, I thought it was love and trust, never once did I sit back and think, that I could potentially be considered a victim, or even call myself one.

I was terrified, I was blind, I was so dumb.
He said only he could love me, and knew my weak spots and used them against me, he knew how to get inside my head.
And I hated myself for opening up and trusting him, because now I was just a puppet.

I looked back to when things were bad and I became a coward.
Letting him do what he wanted, because I was scared it would get worse with every time I resisted.
And it did.

Around the end of October was my birthday, so I had a Halloween party for my 18th.
I invited close friends and had the time of my life.
A photo booth, costumes, pumpkin carving, it was so much fun.

My best friend Al even brought his guitar and sang a bit. And I swear his voice, him, his smile, just, he made me so happy and I realized how much I cared for him. And I was so upset that he was one of the people I decided to push away.
I posted a video on social media, of him sitting by me and singing a song by The Beatles.

Michael was pissed, because he couldn't come to my party.
My parents didn't want him at my house, which was obviously understandable.
But what even pissed him off more, was Al.
That this other boy, was singing a song that ONLY he was 'allowed' to sing to me.
That this other boy was playing guitar and smiling and making me laugh.
Michael hated the guy, and that's something that hurt me.

Later on after everyone left for the night, Michael came by to say happy birthday. Well, i was able to convince my parents to let him come by for just a second.
No gift, no hug, nothing. Just him crying in my room, and me feeling guilty for having a good time on my birthday.
But I tried to be positive and tell myself, that he at least was here with me, on my birthday.