To Start from the begining please click the link below to go back to the “A Troubled Past” page.
That should have been the last time he hit me. It SHOULD have been the end of this portion of the story, but of course it wasn’t. Though I would like to think of myself as a very intelligent person, this mistake (or series of mistakes) cost me more than I care to admit. When Chad left me there bleeding out and sobbing it should have been proof enough that he was more evil than a man could possibly be. It should have proven that he would kill me or someone else with out a second thought and that he would have no remorse what-so-ever for doing so.
But it wasn’t enough.
I called chad two weeks after I lost our child to tell him that I had been pregnant and lost the baby. I don’t know if he didn’t believe me, didn’t want to admit he killed it, or just wanted to deny everything and make me feel weak. He simply said “It wasn’t my baby, it was Ryan’s and proceeded to not talk to me for another 2 weeks. Of course the baby wasn’t Ryan’s. I had only slept with him ONCE not to mention it was the night before Chad had beaten me, It hurt to think he truly thought I cheated on him. I started cutting ties with all of my friends (guys and girls) and even most of my family. I quit my job and that was when Chad must’ve decided that I was isolated enough to continue -what I call- a “relationshit.” We continued to date all through high school. What should have been some of my best memories are tainted with his hate, and his manipulative behavior. Our prom night was one of the worst days of my life. He picked me up and we took some pictures with my grandparents and at his parents house. He smelled like weed and his eyes were completely bloodshot. I wasn’t very knowledgeable of drugs and how a person reacts so I had assumed he had only smoked pot. At the prom he left after only an hour and went out to his car. I thought I would have time to dance with a couple of friends before he came back (He had made me sit at a table the whole time). So I started dancing with Erikia, and a couple other people when one of my guy friends asked to cut in. At this point I was so mad at Chad that I didn’t care if he saw me dancing with a guy. If he wasn’t guna dance with me someone else would and besides what could he do in the middle of the gym in front of every teacher, student and police officer? So I danced. Chad came in the room and it all kind of got blurry. I remember him pushing my friend and grabbing my arm to pull me out of the school. He held on so tight that he left bruises on my arm. he threw me in his car with my white prom dress shut in the door and drove the 40 miles to his grandma’s house. Chad had been living with his grandma, He thought his parents were too strict and he didn’t want to follow their rules. He wanted to smoke pot (among other things), trip out on cold medicine, smoke cigarettes, and drink. He claimed the unfinished basement as his “room.” His grandma had trouble walking up and down the stairs so she rarely came down to check on him. When we got there he took me down to the basement and threw my pajamas at me then went in the other room and opened a bottle of vodka. I should have kept my mouth shut and waited it out until morning and just got the fuck out of there. Maybe I should have went upstairs and asked his grandpa to take me home. What ever I SHOULD have done, I didn’t do. Apparently turning to hysterics and screaming at him wasn’t a good idea.
“Who the F*** do you think you are, Chad?!?! You can’t just throw me in the back of your car like a dead dog and drag me down to your dungeon. I’m going HOME! F*** YOU AND F*** PROM AND F*** THIS DAY!!” I screamed at him like that for maybe 5 minutes before he snapped. I saw the look in his eyes before grabbed me and I tried to run but I couldn’t within seconds his hand was wrapped around my neck and I was inches off the ground pressed against a wall. He grabbed something off his dresser and pushed it hard to my throat.
“F*** ME?! F*** ME!?!?! ARE YOU F***ING KIDDING ME?! I’LL F*** YOU UP B*** I’M GOING TO KILL YOU AND THEY WILL NEVER FIND YOUR BODY.”
He pushed-what I later realized was a knife- harder into my throat and I felt blood dripping down my shirt. This is where they say fight or flight kicks in. there was no choice for me I had to do both. I kneed him in the stomach and ran up the stairs, I almost made it when he grabbed one of my heels (I had changed into my pajamas but put my shoes back on because of the gross basement floor). I fell down but my shoe came off and I reached down and grabbed the other. I proceeded to beat him with my high heel shoe and then gave it one good last throw at his face and started running again. I desperately tried to call my friend to come pick me up but just as I started to tell her where I was my phone was ripped from my hand I ran as fast as I could until I was sure he was no where around I slowed to a walk and finished walking the rest of the 20 mile trek to my house.
Though I hate to admit it, that wasn’t the only time I walked from his grandmas to my house, the last time this happened it played out in almost the exact same way only I walked the 20 miles in snow with no shoes on, in my fuzzy shorts and tank top (pajamas).
………………………to be continued in A Troubled Past: Breaking Chad