The scariest stories are not what we read in fiction, but what happens to real people like you and me. Please support Domestic Violence Awareness Month and read this brave person’s personal recount. Help a victim get away safe. Share her story.
Is is just a coincidence that Domestic Violence Awareness Month is the same month we celebrate monsters and nightmares in the form of Halloween? It’s no coincidence that I refer to my domestic abuser as a monster. I’ve had my share of horror in real life; I prefer it only on screen now.
It has been fifteen years since I limped into a police station and told the nice police officer exactly how he tried to kill me. That final night, I had two black eyes, a split lip, legs and arms scraped raw from when he pulled me out of the car by my hair over the broken window glass, bruised ribs, purple remainders of ten fingers on my neck, and more bruises than regular skin everywhere else. The police took pictures. I think I’m glad I don’t have copies.
I was sore absolutely everywhere. It was two…
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