I told him to stop, he didn't listen, he told me he was sorry, I believed him. It’s a
cycle I can’t seem to stop. I feel as if I'm in a bear trap, my leg is throbbing but I decided
to ignore the pain and deal with it. Jacob told me his abusing me would make myself
stronger. I always try to find a way to call myself tough or strong, but I'm weak. I know
that now because of him.
We have been together for five years. The first two were amazing until he started
drinking and lost his job. He blamed me, he said he wouldn't have lost his job if he
didn't have to take so many off days to take care of me after the miscarriage. After we
lost the baby I was broken and he broke me even more. I should have left right then and
there. I didn't. I have no excuse for why I didn't go running for the hills I just know,
that I didn't. Now I'm, walking down the aisle to sentence myself to a life of horrible
marriage with my worst nightmare. Wish a bride some luck!
After our honeymoon, we bought a nice house in New York. Everything was
good so far after the wedding. Right now I'm making dinner for my lovely
husband and me.
Everything going great. We had a decent conversation laughing and talking. Until he got
a phone call. He answers with a ‘hello’ in a deep manly voice. I saw his hand ball up into
a fist and he clenched his teeth. When he hung up the phone call I felt shivers down my
spine. I walked over to the table and set dinner down. With fear in my eyes I ask a
question which I feel I'm going to regret.
“Who was that?”
“My boss.”
“What did he want?”
“Just calling to tell me I'm fired.”
“WHAT! Oh, my goodness. Did he tell you the reason why?”

“Yup, he said I was gone too long for those 3 months we were in Las Vegas for our
honeymoon. Even though I told him it was gonna be 4 weeks.”
“ Well, it's going to be okay honey.” He got up from his seat with a cherry red face.
“The only reason I was gone for 3 months was that you said you wanted to stay longer...
Do you see what you did? NOW HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO PAY FOR THE
HOUSE!?!?!?!” he throws a glass and I flinch, I couldn't talk, scream, or run. I just stood
there like a deer in dang headlights. He thrusts towards me and grabs me by my hair. He
drags me out of the diner into the basement. Next thing I know he smashes my head up
against the brick wall which draws blood from my forehead and nose. I let out a scream
but he raps a jump rope around my neck, he knows he can’t kill me because that will
bring a lot of questions from the police. He strangles me for a good 5 seconds then
releases his grip. Finally, he snaps out of his bipolar reaction and lets go of the rope
fully.He leaves the basement and I lay on the cold hard concrete.
“Why me?” I ask myself. Jacob has done this many times before, the reason for
this particular setting is no one can hear my screams from the basement. I get up with
the strength I have left and run up the basement stairs into the bathroom hoping the
bastard wouldn’t see me.
I take a shower trying to scrub off the blood and the hot water helps the wounds and
cuts. I hear footsteps coming up the stairs so I turn off the water. I wrap myself in a
towel and lock the door. I tremble with fear as he spoke in a deep sweet charming voice.
“Naomi... I'm sorry. I was just worried, what are we going to do without my side of
income? How will we afford this house? This is the 2nd job I lost, will you forgive me?”
He spoke so gently and calm. That’s probably what made my foolish self-say these
words. “Of Course I forgive you.”
At about 5:00 in the morning I wake up with a pain in my side. I pull back the
covers and scream a cry, I lost another one... my second unborn child was beaten to
death at the hands of its father. Was torn out of the world with no choice to live. I
didn't even know I was pregnant, I could have had a second chance.
“I can't do this anymore.” I thought to myself.
I reached my hand down to the side of the bed and got the gun out of the drawer. At
this time Jacob should be sleeping in the master bedroom. That's where he usually
sleeps after he beats me so he won't feel guilty or hear me cry. I slowly walk down the
hall with bloody footprints painting the floorboards. The door creaks when I slide it

open, and I watch him sleep peacefully. Like a baby... I pull back the hammer on the
586 magnum revolver and point it at his forehead. Rage and anger run through my
body, but so does sadness and griefs which overpower all. I drop the gun and broke
down as if I was a broken dam. My cries awaken the beast and it takes him a while to
process what's happening. I look up to find the barrel pointed directly at me. I pictured
he would have taken the shot by now but he didn't.
He looked at my clothes then back at me with eyes full of sorrow. Eyes full of
regret and I could tell he was sane. A tear rolled down his face and then he started to
bawl. He buried his face in his knees with the gun still in his hand as if he was gonna
take his own life. I stared at him for a moment, my heart started to tingle. This was the
man I fell in love with, my husband, my other half, the sensitive gentleman I met once
before. I crawled over to him by his side and slowly removed the weapon from his hand.
He put his head on my shoulder. He repeatedly whispered into my ear how sorry he was
and that if I wanted to leave, it would be my choice. I kissed his forehead and told him,
“Shhh... I'm not going anywhere.”
I felt safe, but I ask myself should I?