All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
Love IS Respect - Part 1.4
My life became routine. All my mom did was go out and get drunk and bring home every Tom, Dick, and Harry she could find. She practically forgot I even existed, except in the morning when she b****** at me for everything that was wrong with her life.
Weeks went by and other than the time we spent in Philosophy and school in general, Ty and I didn’t have any contact with each other. No gummy bear wars. No smiley faced texts throughout the day. No late night phone calls where we talked about anything and everything and nothing at all. No weekend adventures at the beach. No sleepovers at the graveyard where we watched the sun set and then rise again. No nothing. He ignored me just as thoroughly as I ignored him. Nothing in my life had ever felt so foreign.
My relationship with Brandon was supposed to get better and distract me from thinking about Ty, but it only stressed me out and made me miss Ty more. I thought my “break-up” with Ty would have put an end to Brandon’s jealousy, but it only got worse. If I didn’t answer my phone on the first ring he thought I didn’t care about his feelings. If I said I couldn’t go out because I had homework he thought I was cheating on him and most of the time he accused me of sneaking around with Ty. I told him there was nothing to worry about that Ty and I weren’t speaking. “It’s your fault,” he told me. “When you don’t answer your phone and you blow me off you make me suspicious.” Apparently, everything I did was wrong. In short, my life was constant misery.
One Saturday night Brandon and I were exiting the movie theater when a guy bumped into me. The guy asked if I was alright and I smiled my assurance that I was fine.
Suddenly, Brandon took hold of my arm in a painful grip and practically dragged me to his car.
“Brandon you’re hurting me. Let go,” I pleaded.
“You were flirting with that a****** right in front of me,” he shouted at me.
“What, no I wasn’t! That…that was just an accident,” I tried to explain.
“Stop lying to me! I saw that smile you gave him.”
“I was just trying to be nice.”
“STOP LYING,” he screamed, tightening his hold on my arm. His right hand moved so fast that I could only feel the throbbing sting of his fist after it connected with the left side of my face. My whole body froze in place. My mind was numb with shock.
Slowly, I raised my hand and touched a finger to my face. When I pulled it away, I saw red. Blood tricked down my nose. I looked up at Brandon.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry…” Brandon hurried to say.
I stared at him blankly. He didn’t look sorry.
“Sometimes we hurt the people we love. But that wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t made me,” he said emphatically.
As he said this, and it was clear he was completely serious, my sanity came rushing back. He had actually hit me. “Let go of me,” I whispered.
“Just get in the car. I’ll take you home.”
“No,” I struggled to get free, “let me go!”
“You’re making me angry Taylin. Get in the car,” he demanded, eyes spitting fire, face flushed red, and veins popping out on his arms.
“I’m not going anywhere with you. Let – me - go,” I insisted, trying not to panic.
“YOU F****** B****, get in the DAMN car!”
“NO,” I screamed; I was truly scared now. “Leave me alone; please,” I begged.
Our loud exchange had attracted attention. A group of guys walked closer to where we stood by Brandon’s car.
One of the guys called out and said, “Is everything okay over there, do you know him?”
“I’m her boyfriend. Everything’s fine,” Brandon answered with an unnatural calm that was belied the seething anger I could see on his face. He squeezed my arm harder, silently demanding my acquiescence.
I couldn’t let those guys leave. “He won’t let me go,” I screamed and then cried out in pain as Brandon’s grip tightened, practically cutting off the circulation in my right arm.
The group of guys, who all wore letterman jackets and looked like football players, hastened towards us.
“Let her go man,” one guy demanded.
“She’s MY girlfriend a******,” Brandon retorted. And in his distraction, he let go of my arm. I didn’t hesitate in running away from him and towards the group of guys. “Taylin,” Brandon shouted, “You’re my girlfriend. You can’t leave me! I swear to God you’ll regret this! Don’t you understand that I LOVE YOU?!”
“Just so we’re clear, I’m not your girlfriend anymore. I don’t EVER want to see or talk to you AGAIN,” I screamed hysterically.
He started to advance toward me, eyes wild, and I shrank back in fear as my brave front disappeared, but a few of the guys stepped in front of me creating a protective shield around me.
Brandon roared in outrage, but thought better of taking on all these guys. He turned around and got in his car then slammed the door shut. He stepped on the accelerator and zoomed away.
“Are you okay,” the one guy asked.
I was shaking so violently that I couldn’t formulate an intelligible answer. He reached out to touch my shoulder, but I flinched and whispered, “Don’t touch me. Thanks for helping me, but please don’t touch me.” I wrapped my arms around myself in an effort to keep from completely falling apart. It didn’t work. My vision blurred and I swayed forward.
“Whoa, steady there. You should sit down,” the guy advised me gently, as he disregarded my wishes and lead me to the curb. “Is there someone you can call to come pick you up?”
I didn’t know the answer to that. A month ago, I would have been able to say yes, but now…
My vision tunneled. I tried to get my phone out of my pocket as we walked, slowly, to the curb. The shaking made it even more difficult.
“Ty,” I breathed right before I collapsed, clutching my phone, into the guys arms and felt myself submerge beneath the blackness.
*** Please read:
This is a work of fiction. I was inspired by the Lifetime Original Movie, Reviving Ophelia, which is about an abusive teenage relationship. I was also inspired by another story that I read on Teen Ink by HLFelix called Stick ~ check it out, it’s really good~ http://teenink.com/fiction/romance/article/256850/Stick/?page=1
If you or someone you know is in an abusive relationship, please tell a parent, a teacher, a guidance counselor, or an adult you trust. Don’t try to “handle” it yourself; this type of situation is above your expertise. Abuse is about manipulation and is not restricted to physical violence. Verbal and Emotional abuse is just as damaging and hurtful. Even if you’re ashamed or promised not to tell, this is a serious issue that needs to be told immediately. And don’t be the person who knew and didn’t say or do anything. It could be a matter of life and death or serious injury. I repeat, this is a work of fiction, but for some it’s real life. ***