At just the young age of 15/16 I fell far in love with a boy whom I thought was the love of my life. My first kiss, my first boyfriend my first everything quickly turned into a nightmare. We always play fought but Sometimes he got too rough but I never spoke up and said anything because I knew he would yell at me or tell me I was stupid. This was sadly just the beginning. It started with the mental abuse being called names like whore, slut, ugly, fat to more hands on incidents. All the times being hit they were just accidents and they would never happen again. I had my hair lit on fire, a spray paint threw at my head a mirror broken over my head. At the end of the day I still loved him because I knew he truly didn’t mean to do these things. That one day I woke up and hadn’t started my period I was terrified to tell him I couldn’t tell my family either so I knew what I had to do. I got the courage to tell him he immediately tried led me I needed an abortion because we weren’t 18 yet and we couldn’t take care of a child because we were kids ourselves. So, I, was only 3 weeks pregnant went to the abortion clinic asked my 18 year old classmate to take me and sign that she was my gurdian so I could do what he wanted. They gave me 4 pills I was terrified but I did it anyway I didn’t want to lose “my love.” About 2 months later I became pregnant again this time I was truly terrified. I wasn’t sure what he was going to do to me. So I told him over a text message, we were both 18 by this point and I had graduated he did not. I went over and his demeanor was different. His eyes were cold and his look was blank. He went to hug me but instead when he grabbed me he threw me to the floor stomping my stomach. I remember screaming my friend was outside because I asked her to be close she heard me yelling never called the police just left me. He got a gun out a closet in the house we were at. Showed me it was loaded and put it in my mouth. I was crying, screaming I knew he was going to kill me instead I was being ,too loud. So he hit me with then gun on top of my head. I ran out the back door down the street to my car. I road around driving for hours crying sobbing I never went to the police. I never told my parents, I kept it to myself. If I wouldn’t of been strong enough to get out that floor I would of been dead. Now I’m 26 my son is 7 and he is the best thing that ever happened to me. I knew at the moment on the ground I had a choice, my son, or my abuser. I love my son more than anything in this world.
T. Southern