Foolish

**Authors note** This story contains come sort of abuse.  If you cannot handle it- please don't read it**

Hi, my name is Tiara.  I was twenty-two years old and used to reside in New York.  I am going to tell you the story about my life before I ended up here.

When I was nineteen, I started dating this guy named, Trace.  When we first started dating, he seemed like such the gentleman.  I loved him for that.  He would take me out to nice places and buy me things.  But then one day, after dating eight months, he changed.  Not a little change, but a HUGE change.  One that isn't deserved my anyone.

I got back to my house at around six-thirty at night, and he was there.  As I entered my front door, he approached me and threw me up against the wall, as I started to fall to the ground, he pulled my hair and shouted,

"Where the fuck were you"  We were supposed to be going out for dinner tonight at five."

I tried to reply but all he would say was, "Shut up bitch, I don't wanna fucking hear it."

Finally, he let me speak.....through tears.....

"Trace. you cancelled on me so I made other plans to go out to dinner with my Mom tonight because we needed to talk about something.  I'm sorry, it won't happen again...."

"it better not fucking happen again."

It was the scariest moment of my life.  I never expected this to be a part of our relationship.  It was like I was dating two totally different people.  One, the sweet and gentle Trace that I first started dating.  And the other, the evil and rough Trace that put me in tears every time I saw him.

The next time he got this way, he got mad because I had to go to Sacramento because my Grandmother because ill with cancer.  I was to be gone over our one year anniversary.  He didn't like the fact of that very much.  When I told him, he beat me once again.  He beat me to intensive care.  I was in the hospital for two weeks because of puncture wounds all over my body.

I wanted to leave him, but was so scared that he would kill me.  I never though as a kid that I would lose control in this type of relationship and be dismissed of my independence.  The next time was the worst of all.

I told the "sweet" Trace that I was going out with a bunch of friends for one of theirs twenty-first birthday.  I told him we were going to dinner and then off to a club.  Which was the truth.  I would never take the risk of lying to him.  He was totally cool with it, for the moment.  I got home at about three in the morning and called out for him.  He walked down the stairs and with the scariest look on his face that I had ever seen.  He walked up to me and pushed me into the wall and started beating the shit out of me.  He picked me up by my blood drenched hair and said,

"Next time, I'll kill you." and with that, he left.

I was lying in my house left to die.  The next morning, my mom came over because I wasn't picking up any phones.  She found me lying there, soaked in my own blood.  She checked my pulse and there was nothing.  Nothing.  He fucking killed me.

Nice one Trace, there won't be a fucking next time because you took this time way over the edge.  I should have listened to my family and friends when they said to get out of this relationship before it's too late.  I was foolish to go back to him every time.  But I was scared and now it's too late.

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