A/N: GENERAL WARNING. This fic will touch on physical abuse, so if it is a topic that bothers you then I wouldn't read it. I am not sure how far into detail I will go at times, it may vary. So, read at your own risk, if you do decide to read. There will also be a brief mention of suicide. It won't always be "dark and twisty" but that's how it starts.
This first chapter is a basic overview of the girls stories, and personal POV's. The next chapter will be longer and include the first official meeting of the two.
A/N 2: This one is for those that love the more dramatic stories. This was an idea I had for a while, but hesitated to do it. Someone who went through similar circumstances asked me to write it. So, I will be working on this at the same time as "Me and You". This is an AU fic, that starts with the lives of both girls, in Boston MA. They meet while they are both in loveless, controlling, and abusive relationships. Is it fate? Of course it is. They realize the personal connection they have and as time goes on, they fall madly in love with one another. They decide they will do whatever it takes, to free themselves from a life of pain, and start over together.
The last two years of my life have been hell. I am living a never ending nightmare, and have become someone I don't even recognize anymore.
I have always been strong, and now I am weak. I was always brave, and now I live in constant fear. I was always a dreamer. I have always believed in dreaming big, and I always did just that. Until those hopes and dreams were shattered, along with every last bit of pride and dignity I had.
It started when I finally worked up the courage to tell my parents about my sexuality.
Throughout my childhood, I was raised with strict family values, as well as religious beliefs. I think a part of me always knew exactly who I was, but tried to tell myself otherwise to avoid dealing with what I knew would not be a good reaction from my family. I hid who I was for years, because I knew I would never be accepted.
Two years ago, I told my parents that I loved women as well as men.
The end result; my father had a priest come to talk to me, before pushing a relationship with a man on me. He had me talk to the priest, as if my sexuality was a sickness or 'phase' that could be prayed away.
I had always been one to stand up for what I believed in, so I tried in this situation. I tried as hard as I could, to get my parents to see that I was still the daughter they raised me to be. I was smart, caring, passionate, strong, loving, so many things.
I had an extremely successful career. I became a doctor.
I was everything they wanted me to be, until I told them I loved women.
Respecting my elders was one of the most important things my parents taught me growing up. When I tried to stand my ground and stick up for myself, they viewed me as disrespectful. The more I fought, the harder they fought back. Eventually, I surrendered because I feared I would lose my family if I didn't. I was afraid they would disown me, just like they said they would.
My father fixed me up with the son of a friend of his. Someone he was certain would be good for me. Someone who would provide for me, and treat me right, and most of all love me.
Louis is the same age as me, and very successful. We relocated for his job. He is a lawyer at one of the top law firms here in Boston and makes a very good living for us, which is what got us this nice house we live in. I have a good looking boyfriend, and a huge house with lots of money. So I should be happy, right? If only...if only...
He is tall and muscular with carmel colored skin, with dark hair and very dark brown eyes, and a very evenly shaved design of facial hair. To the world around us, he is a saint. To me, he is my worst nightmare.
At first, things were great between us. While I was never thrilled with the idea of being with a man, he treated me well and I convinced myself that, that was all I needed. I was so good at convincing myself of this, that I stayed with him. I was unhappy, but I stayed and kept my misery to myself.
Misery quickly became something much more powerful, one fateful night, one year ago.
Louis has always been possessive and jelous, as well as controlling. He does not like when other people even look at me the wrong way, let alone actually talk to me. We had an argument one night, which started with him telling me that I couldn't see my best friend Mike anymore. He was always jelous of my friendship with Mike, and always jumped to conclusions that we were more than just friends.
When I tried to stand up for myself, I received a hard blow to the side of the head with his fist. The shock of what he did to me, prevented me from continuing the argument. Instead, I picked myself up off the floor and convinced myself that it would never happen again. That I just caught him at the wrong time, and he didn't really mean to do it.
As time went on...
That one punch became two, resulting in several black eyes.
A slap would turn into several slaps. So many, my skin would turn beat red.
I get thrown to the floor, to receive kick after kick in the sides...resulting in bruised ribs.
He felt that his hands and feet weren't doing quite enough damage. I've get chairs thrown at me, I get hit with lamps. I've been thrown through glass doors.
There's never a real reason for it, it just happens.. I surrendered all control, and became the 'object' that he uses to vent his frustrations. Fighting back would do me more harm than good.
Every time I've ended up with a bruise or scar that was noticed by someone I knew, I have had to come up with an excuse for why I am injured. I come up with lies about me walking into things, tripping over things, anything I could think of to get the questions to stop. I can never tell anyone the truth, because then he would hurt me more.
When it comes to sex, I have never had any desire to be with a man. Unfortunately there is no way out of it for me. Whenever he wants to, I give in. I give in with the knowledge of the harm he will inflict upon me if I not give him what he wants. Every time it's over, I roll over and turn away from him. I let the tears fall freely as I cry myself to sleep every night, in silence. I also pray to myself each time, that I will not end up pregnant.
I would feel a great deal of guilt, bringing a baby into this world. Forcing my own child to live in a broken home where he or she will probably get treated as badly as I do, is the last thing I want.
Over time, I have become quiet and withdrawn. It has gotten to the point where I barely have a life outside of this house. Outside of this hell I am forced to live in. I say forced, because I have attempted to escape several times and failed every time. Each time I was caught and used as a punching bag. I'm at a point where I no longer try and free myself of this misery, because I know I will not succeed.
There is no escape, no way out. I am trapped.
I am 'allowed' very little to no contact with friends. I go to work every day putting on my happy face, and complete my daily tasks before coming home to hell every night. When I speak to my family, I lie to them and tell them that everything is perfect. I lie to them, with the fear that they would never believe me.
Fear: My whole life has become about fear...
Almost everything I do at this point, results in a kick, punch, slap, or other form of physical harm. If I am even a minute late from the usual time I get home from work, he always finds out about it, even if he is not home yet. If I go to the store and am gone longer than the amount of time he tells me to be, the accusations of cheating begin, followed by a beating.
I live with this never ending feeling of fear, that weighs down on me every second of every day. I have become so weak and fragile, inside and out. I was once strong and brave, now I am weak and scared.
Pain: My life has also become all about pain
When one bruise or cut heals, another one takes it's place. Since the abuse began, I can't ever recall a time where physical injuries weren't visible. I do my best to cover with makeup and clothes, but only so much can be hidden.
The bruises on my wrists and arms can be covered with long sleeves. The cuts and bruises on my ribs and back are always covered with clothing. The black eyes and cuts on my face are always the hardest to hide. Everywhere I go, I feel like everyone is always staring at me. I hate the looks of pity that I get, it just makes me feel worse.
I don't want pity or sympathy, I just want someone to love. Someone who will love me unconditionally, and never hurt me. Love isn't supposed to hurt this much.
This is not love...
This is pain, loneliness, sadness, and so much more.
There is not, and will never be; enough words to describe exactly what this is.
Up until six months ago, I always knew exactly who I was. I was extremely intelligent, strong, confident and always happy. I was always able to see the positive side of things, even when no one else could. I had my share of hard times, but always came out on the other side. I never let anything change who I was, or bring me down. I stuck to my personal beliefs, one of them being that I was who I was and nothing or no one could ever change that. I was satisfied with who I was, and the direction my life was headed.
Every person I crossed paths with in my life, always told me that I could brighten any one's day, just by them being around me. My smile, could have lit up a room. The kind things I always did for others, made all the difference in the world. The strength and wisdom I passed on to those around me, always pulled them through whatever hardships they were facing.
I had goals...I had hopes...I had dreams, and I always fulfilled them. I lived my life to the fullest, and never wasted a second of my time dwelling on what could have been, because I always pushed through and achieved great things.
I became a pediatric surgeon, helping tiny humans get their lives back, so they too can go on to do great things.
I felt as if I were on top of the world. Nothing could ever stop me...
That was then, and this is now. The person I once was, no longer exists. I am not even sure of who I am anymore. The only thing I do know; is that I am not the person I was born to be, and don't feel I can ever truly become myself again.
Today, I am no longer a person; but rather an object. My existence in this world, is to be used and abused.
I am battered, bruised, broken and confused.
The person who is supposed to love me the most; is the one to bring me, what I had always thought was an unimaginable about of pain. I never truly knew what pain was, until it was all I ever felt.
I met my girlfriend Lisa when I first became a doctor. She was the close friend of a colleague of mine, and a seemingly nice person. We automatically hit it off and were close friends for quite some time. The more time we spent together, the stronger the feelings we had for one another became. After what seemed like forever, we were finally able to tell one another how we really felt. We started dating and soon fell in love. Like any other serious couple, we eventually moved in together and started our lives with one another.
She was so beautiful, inside and out. From her long golden brown hair and blue eyes, to her personality, she was what I thought (at the time) that I wanted.
Everything was perfect. She was perfect, or so I thought...
What I thought was love, was only lies.
What was once everything I've ever wanted, became everything I never wanted.
It started off as degrading instead of abusive. A simple slap in the face, soon turned to a punch. The punch that resulted in a black eye or bruise elsewhere on my body, escalated to several punches and bruises.
Once it starts, it almost never stops. I am in one of those situations where it is never ending. A never ending cycle of pain and sadness, with no escape.
When it first happens, you convince yourself that it won't ever happen again. When it continues to happen, you begin to feel like you deserve it. You ask yourself: Why else would something this horrible happen to me, if I didn't deserve it?
Slaps, punches, kicks, cuts...does anyone deserve that?
For me, it all started with an accusation of cheating. I stood my ground and stuck up for myself. Instead of making her realize I would never cheat on her, all it got me was a life of pain. Something inside of her snapped that night, and she has never been the same since. Maybe she was always that way, and was good at burying it deeper inside of her so no one would see who she really was.
I no longer exist in her life as the person she loves. She tells me she loves me, but then she hurts me.
She slaps me, and then tells me she's sorry...
She punches me, and then tells me she didn't mean it...
She kicks me, and then tells me she loves me...
Every time she tries to touch me, I flinch. It's like I am programmed at this point, to expect pain and suffering. When I flinch, she always says or does something to make me feel like an idiot.
She cheats on me over and over..and over again. She cheats on me, and then wants sex from me. By now, I know better than to deny her. I give in to her every time she demands, because I know what will happen if I don't. She uses me as an object to fill her own sick needs. It makes me feel worthless, disgusting, and so many awful things. She gets all the pleasure and satisfaction, while I get all the pain and suffering.
If anyone knew exactly what I go through, they might ask me why I don't just leave her. I would tell them, I would if I could. If it were that simple, I would have been gone a long time ago. All of this would be a part of my past, another story I'd have to tell. People who are abusive and controlling, have the ability to psychologically program fear into the person they abuse.
I've tried to escape several times. She always seems to wake up and catch me, or have some one watching me. Instead of getting my escape from this hell, I get a beating for tying to leave.
Half of the scars and bruises on my body, are the direct result of failed attempts to get myself out of here. I don't even try anymore.
When the abuse got to this point, I quickly became isolated. I closed myself off from the outside world, fear and shame taking over every inch of my being. I felt I could never tell anyone what I was going through, because they either wouldn't believe me, or wouldn't be able to help me.
In order to avoid more physical harm, I have lost touch with all friends and family. She has me convinced at this point that she should be the only one I come in contact with.
We have just moved from Michigan to Boston for Lisa's job. She received a job offer from one of Boston's top law firms and of course dragged me along. I have interviews at hospitals in Boston, but no guarantee of a job.
I have not spoken to my family in months, and will no longer have any of my friends around.
I have a warm body beside me in bed every night, but have never felt so alone.
If only somebody loved me. Really and truly loved me. Someone who would protect me from harm. Someone who would hold me when I cry, and chase away my fears when I am scared.
I am desperate.
Desperate for love and affection...
Still, I try and cling to every last bit of hope that one day I will be free of pain.
Once the isolation has set in, it's all you have left.
There has to be something better for me in this life. There has to be true love, because without it, I won't survive.
If this is 'my story', it can't be that way forever.
A/N: This first chapter was just a brief overview of the girls personal stories. There will be more detail as the story goes on. As I said before...it won't always be this dark and twisty. Happier times will eventually happen but this will be another story that includes a bit of everything, and will often shift up and down. They will meet in the next chapter and you'll see more dialogue and insight into what is going on in the minds of both of them. I haven't figured out how long this will be yet, but I'm assuming pretty long as I am going to attempt to make certain situations seem as realistic as possible.