The Beginning
     

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Of course it started out like they all do, I was 15 he was older with a shiney & fast car, I was a decent kid he was the bad boy that would make my life perfect... The first year everything was good, he wasn’t a violent guy, at least not with me. He took me places, and got me away from my mother {of course we all know I was rebeling} so naturally this had to be `The One’. Oh yes, no doubt, I had to marry this guy.

So it began, we had fought, you know petty little arguements that he always won. But now that we were getting married things changed we had our first real fight. He hit me close fisted full fledged punch right in the mouth, I had fallen face down and he was on top of me with his arm around my neck, so I did what I had to to get away I bite him as hard as I could he got up I ran. I should have left then but those crystal blue eyes convinced me every couple has fights it’s when you can make up and move on that you know how important one another is, and how strong the love is. So being young and stupid I stayed and we made up and there was the first promise, "Never again Michele I promise you it’ll never happen again".

February 14th, 1996 we were married in the Stanislaus County Clerk’s Office. It was fine for a while until he started staying out late partying with his old friends calling me up with girls talking in the background, girls started calling the house. I would ask about it and off he went. I got worse and worse by the day I was so unhappy the infatuation I had thought was love was gone, completely. But he kept telling me that he loved me and wanted to be with me, so I stayed.

I continually got worse then spells of depression got more frequent as he took away my friends one by one then starting on my family. After he had me totally isolated it got worse he got mad more often, more violent every time more empty promises everytime, finally I lost it I was 18 in a relationship that made me depressed and miserable more everyday he kept pushing and pushing til finally I tried to overdose. I figured I have no where to go no one to go to I hated everything about my life, and I was just too tired to deal with anything else. So I took what seemed to be the only option I had. We had a fight that night I drove home surrounded myself with photo albums got a bottle of whiskey and started popping pills 5 at a time. About an hour after I started he calls tells me how sorry he is how much he loves and needs me how it’ll once again never happen again I tell him what I’ve done he convinces me I hang up and call the ambulance. They took me in and pumped my stomach and kept me for observation. And once again I stayed, little did I know this would become known as the night he saved my life.

For about 2 months everything was perfect, he was nice, never violent. Then he reverted it all went back to exactly the way it was but he was more possesive than ever. He would come down to my work and sit there for 8 of my 12 hour long shifts, just watching how people were with me. Eventually he decided people were responding to me the wrong way I had to remove my naval ring and cut off 18 inches of my hair or quit my job. So I did what I had to do to make sure I would get some time out of the house. But of course it still wasn’t enough, I was still miserable and lonely.

November 3rd 1999 he started in and had been yelling at me all day long finally I said no more "I’m leaving you" this statement caused an hour long stand off, he wanted to talk I of course couldn’t say no so he talked and he cried and he begged me to stay I explained as best as I could that I didn’t love him and that I couldn’t do this anymore I was tired of being afraid everyday I was tired of being basically a prisoner and that I had to leave. Finally he agreed to let me leave. He even drove me my suitcase and one box of my stuff to my grandmothers house and dropped me off.

For a few days everything was fine I had talked to him online he was very civil, pleasant even. Finally I was able to persuade him to let me come and get the rest of my belongings. His only request was that I come alone because he would feel uncomfortable with any of my family there, which I was uncomfortable with but could understand to an extent, so I agreed. And on November 9th 1999 at 12 noon I headed over in my grandfathers car to what would be the most horrifying day of my life.....

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