So it begins

A Chapter by LoperForLife

I remember one night that stands out among the rest. It was a snowy night, not uncommon in the dreary spread of winter. I was with a guy. I can't remember his name because I blocked it from my mind. I'm pretty sure he's the one who killed me.

I was starting to like him. He was good looking, tall with olive skin and piercing brown eyes that seemed to see right through me. I thought he was going to be different, this one. Not so set on the things I was known to do. I was totally wrong.

After a few hours of talking with him (I let all of Mom and Dad's angry, tired calls drift to my voicemail) I was starting to relax. No sex, no drugs, no anger was brought up. I guess relaxation was my ultimate downfall.

That stuff was brought up later, when he popped the cap of a icy brown bottle of the strong stuff. Halfway through it, he started getting violent when I didn't accept a sip, and didn't kiss him back. I had been with this guy for a few months, and I had been a pushover the whole time. I don't know why I suddenly felt uneasy about drinking, and after I started to walk out after he hit me a couple times, I felt rough, iron strong hands grasping my wrists like manacles.

He had no problem, fueled by alcohol and rage, pushing me down, covering my mouth, and doing what he wanted with me. It was painful, it broke my heart, and when I finally got away, tears freezing on my cheeks, I sprinted home. I was received with angry slaps across my face and the horrified screams of my mother.

After that night, Mom and Dad got divorced, Mom still didn't have enough money or time to care for my siblings and I, and I finally gave in and talked to a counselor. That lead to law intervention. That lead to my death in hot, firey flames. That lead to why I'm still here.

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