Domestic Violence

John was about 10 years, 6 months older than me. I do not know whether or not I would change the past if I was able to. I used to write about some of the episodes in a separate journal, the way I felt at those times, the sick things he would do to me. God! I can recall so many times I felt that way... being treated like a dog, like I didn't matter. It wasn't that he hit me, because by far, sometimes I wish he would have instead. He would choke me, suffocate me, and pin me down, then he'd hit me.

I remember one time we were arguing about something, I don't remember what it was about. He shoved my face into our foam mattress and held it tightly. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't scream... I couldn't even cry. No one alive could possibly ever envision that horrid feeling.

Remember being a kid and watching cartoons early Saturday morning? Sometimes two characters will get into it and one will bop the other over the head, and then you'd see little stars begin to appear and start circling his head... that's real.

I remember times where I would scream as loud as I could for someone to help me... for someone to make him stop! Even when people were just in the other room, no one would help me, everyone blocked it out, ignored it as if I didn't even exist.

I know you're probably wondering... "Why did you stay for so long?" That is the million dollar question anyone would ask a girl in my situation and I will try to tell you the best I can.