My Diary Where Evil Lives

I thought he loved me, but should love hurt that way? I was black and blue. I did not recognize the young girl standing before me in the mirror. Evil was all around me, and I had no idea how to get it out of my life. I never felt so alone, so distant from everybody in my life. I felt ashamed and lost. I looked into his eyes with every beating and saw red. His evil shone through. Sometimes I felt as if he was proud of himself. He liked molding me into this walking zombie that I was. He ruled my world. His torture was horrific, and I could not think for myself any longer. I was just what he wanted: a broken down little girl and he was my master. I saw the joy in his face as he looked at me. It must have made him feel good about himself, like he had all the power in the world. His laughs haunt me as well. I can still hear him, so evil. He could raise his voice and I would cower down like a wounded dog. He did things to me that are Immoral, and after doing what he had done, he always said, "I'm sorry. I just love you so much. I can't let you ever leave me." The very thought of me leaving him drove him to an evil rage, and the beating and rape would began all over again. He always said, "If I can't have you, no one will." It was horrific for me in every way. I developed bipolar disorder and had posttraumatic stress disorder. My life went from a happy childhood to an adult relationship that not even an adult should ever endure. Alcohol and drugs covered my wounds and numbed my mind, but they only made my life even worse than it was. I added fuel to my fire. I lived with the devil inside of me. He created the person that I was. He must have been so proud. And then a light of hope came to me. I was pregnant. The only good thing I got out of that man was my baby girl, but she also endured pain and trauma, and it started before she was even born. I had to do something, even if it was to kill him, which I fantasized about most of the time. The day came. He took her from me, and as a mother, I did the unthinkable. I could not let him hurt me anymore. He pulled his last string with me, and I was going pull the trigger on him and then myself. It had to end.