"My Own Prison" (Short Story)

I was about 14 years old, when I met the man of my dreams. It was September of 1995, and my girlfriends and I decided to go to the mall to hang out. It was after begging and pleading with my Mom until she said yes, to giving us a ride. Soon after we arrived, he caught my eye, like no one has ever done. I didn't know what to do, I was star struck. He had a pair of black sweats on and a wife beater, reeking of Cool Water Colone. The I'm a bad ass look and your parents will hate me. Right up my alley. He had the full tattoos and a cigarette behind his right ear. Yep, every parent's nightmare, "The Rebel Without a Cause."



After exchanging our numbers, we kept in contact off and on for the next several months. We saw each other off and on. He had such a way with words, it was amazing. I'm sure that he could sell me a paper bag. We lost contact after speaking for about 6 months. I found out through a mutual friend that he had moved to a small town an hour away. I thought that I would never talk to him again. I started moving on with my life. But he would always pop into my head here and there.



I called our mutual friend out of the blue to ask if he knew the guy that I was currently dating. He went to the same school as all those guys. Our friend said that he was there and asked if I wanted to talk to him. I was so excited to hear that he was there. He had been on my mind almost constantly since we had lost contact. After that conversation with him that night, we were seeing each other more and more. He made such an entrance into my life that you would never forget. He had such a way about him, to where you trusted everything. I felt so safe with him. He protected me.



I remember one time, when we went for one of our walks. Normally we would talk. We'd talk about our goals and things that happened to us in the passed. Well, this time, we sat at a near by park at a picnic table, making out. I knew he wanted to go further. I wasn't comfortable about it. He was pushing and pushing. I had never had sex until just once before and it was a nightmare. I made myself a promise to not go through with sex until I was in an established relationship. He kept pushing and pushing. I made him promise that he wouldn't leave me. I was falling for him and I was scared. Looking back, this is too much for a 14 and a half year old to take on. I never want my daughters to be put in this situation nor have to make one of these decisions.

Well, I gave in. In the middle of a football field at an Elementary School, just down the street from my house. Forever, I've had mixed feeling about that night. Years after, he would talk about that night and how magical it was. I know in myself that it was his first attempt to control me. The first time in my life where I felt powerless, violated and taken advantage of. He started isolating me from my friends. He made me cover up when I would wear a bathing suit. Ummmm... I was 115 pounds. I was not fat by no means. He would make remarks about my make-up and the way I dressed. He wanted me to rely on him.



After our relationship progressed, I found out even more things about him. He had a huge meth problem. I saw it more and more. At the age of 15, you don't realize those things. Drugs and drug addictions are on T.V, not the real world. He'd always say,"I only do it on the weekends." Well, I found it was a whole lot more than that. Try everyday all day. This is when the abuse was more apparent, looking back now. At this point, he was in and out of my life like the wind. He would be around for a week and then gone. No call, no contact of any kind. When he was around, he was on a mood roller coaster. I remember one night, where I was up with him and for some reason, he got mad at me. He started calling me a "Bitch" and a "Whore". I would be left crying to myself and wondering what I did. He would tell me,"SHUT UP! QUIT CRYING YOU LITTLE CUNT!" "YOU MAKE ME SICK!" I am serious, this was out of the blue.



One time, he broke into my house and waited for me in my room until I got home from school. I hadn't seen him for a couple of weeks. I was startled that he was in my room, I didn't expect to see him again. I ran up to him and gave him a big hug and told him that I was so happy that he was alright. He came back with,"Well, why wouldn't I be alright? I can take care of myself." Well, I left it at that. The whole time he was very quiet and you could feel the anger, you could cut it with a knife, it was so thick. I tried just starting up conversation with him. I'd start talking to him about school and gossip and he would come back with a smart ass remark, "God! How childish... You actually hang out with those people?" This was the "I'm not good enough" tactic, he'd always put on me. It always came down on me. What I did wrong. I knew he was coming down off of something. Then in the next breathe, he was on top of me. How can someone you love make you feel so dirty. I only wanted to help him. I only wanted to please him. After he was done, getting himself off. He started in on me again. He said,"You're a FUCKING BITCH! WHY THE HELL AM I HERE? DEALING WITH YOUR IMMATURE ASS!!!" I stood there and cried and I had my face in my hands...as I watched him walk out the door. Once again, in and out of my life like a wurl wind. Sometimes it was great, but I always knew that those few moments didn't last.



All I wanted was to have a normal boyfriend and a normal relationship. Why me? So, after a few more head trips he had put me on, I picked up the pieces and started to live life again. Like a normal teenager should. Hanging out with friends and having a good time. I even started dating again. I felt like I had a weight lifted off my shoulders. About this time, my family and I were scheduled to move where his family lived an hour away. We were set out to move in a week.

I was hanging out with some friends when I received a page. I knew it was him. Even with all the things that recently happened. I still worried about him and thought about him everyday. I ran to the nearest pay phone and called him. He was at his friend's house and wanted to pick me up later that night. I was so excited! Night came and he was there! I left with him and his older friend, that was older than my Dad.

We arrived at his friend's house and we were having a great time. He knew that my family and I were moving to the same town his parent's live in. I also mentioned that I haven't had my period yet. Just not even 3 and a half weeks ago was my 16Th birthday. He was speechless for a while. I remember him looking over at me, with a rolled dollar bill in his nose, looking down to snort the line in the dresser drawer his friend chopped for him; when he hesitated and looked up at me and said,"This is it, Babe." From then on...that was it. He moved with my family and I that week. He went through major detox in our hotel room. By the time our house was ready, he was some what OK. In that same week, he made amends with his parents and moved back. I had found out for sure that I was pregnant. I took a test while his parents were out. Before I could make it to the doctor, I miscarried. That was a horrible thing. I was 16 years old. My Mom got a call at work from his Mom to come pick me up because it was thought that I had the flu. My Mom came and I sat up to get out of bed when I felt a gush. I had been bleeding and cramping for over 24 hours.

When my Mom and I walked through the door, I ran up stairs. I pulled down my pants and sat down on the toilet. I looked down and on my pad was the most horrifying thing. I screamed,"MOM!!!" She yelled,"What!" As she ran up the stairs. She flung open the door and I told her,"LOOK!" She looked down, with her mouth and her eyes wide open as she went to cover her mouth...all I can remember is a deathly scream. I'll never forget the way she looked at that instant. She rushed me to the hospital and I had a miscarriage. It was horrible... You never understand at the time what an impact this type of thing does on your parents. I knew at the time what an impact it did on me. He and I wanted to wait on a family and live before that all happened.

After that, I started working at a local Golf and Country Club. I even went to home schooling to continue my high school education. I was doing well. He and I were recovering after the tragic event. He also had a job, at a local painting company. Soon after starting my birth control regimen, I quit taking it. It was making me sick. He and I thought nothing of it. We continued on, making a life for ourselves. I hadn't seen or talked to any of my friends. I had to sneak around to do that. He always would mention how immature and stupid they were. I missed all of them very much. I didn't want to sit and argue with him, I knew it got me now where every time.



Before we knew it, it was Christmas 1997. He surprised me with a ring and a work out bench. He told me that I needed to start working out, that I had too much time on my hands and that I was gaining weight. He didn't buy me this and spend money on it for it not to be used. So, I used it. I used it everyday. I think in a 2 month time, I dropped 30 pounds. I was down to 118 pounds and he still wasn't satisfied until I was 110 pounds. The next week, I weighed myself and I was 115 pounds.



It was the last week in April of 1998. I had found out that I was pregnant again. First thing, I tell him. I went to the doctor and it was official. We tried to hide it from our parents as long as we could. I remember, being at my 17Th birthday party and I could barely eat my raviolis. I hid it as well as I could. Not too long after, my parents and I went to a local restaurant and I had a craving for a steak. I was so nauseous on the way home. Finally, after that, I got up enough courage to tell my Mom. I came home from work and She had come home early that day. We were both standing in the middle of the kitchen when I told her. She suspected but she was waiting for me to tell her. She said that she had a hunch after I was eating wanton soup after work everyday. We cried about it, but she reassured me that everything would be alright. Right after that I told him to come over to my house after work so we could discuss it.

I will never forget the look on my Father's face. I know it was the look of hurt and disappointment. We were all crying, but my parents always had a positive way about looking at things. I knew for sure that I wanted this baby. I always wanted to be a mother and a wife and be at home raising my family.



My Mom called his parents and it was a way different reaction then my parents. They made it sound scary and "What a huge mistake... You guys are kids, you'll never make it. What's your plan, you have to have a plan." It was a downer coming from them. But I never doubted myself, not for a minute. At that time I was about 4 months along. He and I had been getting into it since his parents were feeding that I would never do anything, that I wouldn't be a good Mother. They were saying that I would pawn the kid off to my Mom and have my Mom raise it. That was not in my books. He and I lightly talked here and there for a while and in that time His Mother found out that she was pregnant with her 5Th child and she was due 6 weeks after me. That was another log in the fire. This was another thing that I wasn't good enough at. I felt that I was never good enough for him or his family. I did my best to please all of them.



A month later, I went to go visit my family in the mid-west. I had just found out that I was having a girl! I was ecstatic and so was my family. They had planned to throw a huge baby shower for me. It was a great visit. I always loved how positive my family is and how we all stick together in hard times. They all knew what I was going through and how I was so young. They did an awesome job at supporting me and my baby.



I was gone for about 3 weeks, when I came back, I had come back to a different man. He said how he missed me and how I was the only woman for him. He and I took a drive and talked... We sat in Target parking lot, when he said,"You wanna get married or what?" I said yes of course. It's what I wanted. He offered a family, security, the works. He also led on to saying, that it was going to be hard and we both need to put in our 100%. After that, I told him our daughter's name. I told him about how before I left how I told him that I liked, Cheyenne. I had a few signs to tell me that, that was going to be her name. I went through Cheyenne, Wyoming and I saw a little girl named, Cheyenne at one of the rest stops in Texas. I also heard the Garth Brooks song,"Beaches of Cheyenne." All signs on my way there and back. So, it was her name.



A couple of months later we were off to Reno, NV to get married. October 3, 1998 at River Front Chapel. What a crazy weekend! Our Minister's name was Stanley. We were married in front of the Truckee River, in front of a waterfall. The music was from a 1980's cassette player. Yeah, just imagine. We had a hand full of family members there.

But I think, I was the happiest person there. I didn't know this till just recently, my parents, before the wedding were in a cafe, down the street from the hotel, having breakfast. They were talking about how something isn't right. They knew that something bad was going to happen and that they couldn't stop me from marrying him. They were both crying in the middle of the cafe. The waitress asked them what was wrong and they said that their little 17 year old girl was getting married to a creep. I remember what my Dad told me before we walked down the isle, to give me away, "Are you ready?", he said holding back his tears, his voice cracking.

Well, the night before we left to Reno, he was complaining about my hair do. I had it cut for the wedding. He didn't like how short I cut it and he made me cry. My Mom threatened to stop the wedding. She didn't want her daughter to marry a man that was only concerned about her hair. Boy, were they right. Love is so blind.



After we came back, He moved in with my parents and I. Him and my Mom were always at each other's throats. As if it wasn't stressful enough. He and I went and bought food just for us. He made sure that my Mom did not help me with our laundry. He would call me a few times a day to find out what I was doing, to make sure that I was cleaning and doing my wifely duties. He would make remarks about how much I ate, that he didn't want me to put on too much weight. Things always had to be perfect before he came home. If there was one thing out of place, boy, would I hear it. My Mom was always arguing with him in my defence. It just made him madder and more possessive.



Before you knew it, Cheyenne was born. 8 pounds, 15 ounces and worth every hardship leading up to this day. Not to mention the 23 hours of labor. We brought her home on the day before Christmas Eve and all my family was waiting for her. He forced me to breast feed and he refused to give her any type of a bottle. I was up from December 21st to the 24th. There was no rest. I was so exhausted. I watched the sun set and the sun rise. Every 20 minutes, she had to feed. My milk hadn't come in yet. Poor Cheyenne wasn't being satisfied. On Christmas Eve night, I broke down. The night before, he left me in the nursery, while he went to our bedroom to sleep. He said,"Good luck. Good night." There was nothing I could do. My Mom kept insisting to give Cheyenne a bottle but he kept saying no. Finally, my Mom had it. I was in the kitchen, in front of all my family, weeping, because I was so tired. He said,"No bottles, I want my daughter breast fed!" My Mom said,"Look at your wife, she is exhausted and so is the baby, the baby needs to be satisfied and your wife needs to sleep!" My Mom then, grabbed up a bottle and Cheyenne and fed her. My parents and grandparents took Cheyenne for the night so I could sleep. He was pissed, but I didn't care at that point. I woke up to a whole new baby. She was satisfied.



After that, I think I was scared. I just couldn't breast feed and he was okay with the fact of the bottle. Well, as soon as Cheyenne was about 6 weeks or so, she had colic. It was extra harder. I was 17, a young Mom and wife and my baby has colic. He'd always blame me for it. "Well, if you would have breast fed, this wouldn't of happened." I was so frustrated. I didn't know what I was doing wrong. My baby cried all day long, not a moment of rest. My Mom would come home and take Cheyenne, so I could take a shower and bounce her for a while and give me a break. He would get home and we'd take Cheyenne for a drive. From 7 o'clock at night until 11. We'd quietly walk through the door and we'd go to bed. It was so hard at times to grasp. Here I was at home with a baby and all my friends were preparing for the prom. I was fighting to be a woman and a child at the same time.



Finally, we saved up enough to rent our own place. We bought furniture and everything you can imagine for our townhouse. I was happy and hoping things would be better. We moved out the day I turned 18 years old. We settled in nicely. Cheyenne was 4 months old and I went into a deep depression. It had to do with postpartum depression and taking on adult responsibilities. It's a lot for a teenager to grasp. It's different when you are 25 and starting a family, you've experienced a little bit of life. At this time, it was even hard for me to get out of bed or even shower. He wasn't supportive at all. I needed to keep up with everything or I can move back with Mommy. He said,"I told you it was going to be hard! I should have known that you weren't ready! You are too immature." I always had to be perfect. God forbid, I go through anything. Don't get sick, because no matter what everything had to be done. I stood behind him no matter what. But when it came to me, that was a different story.



I left him shortly after that. It was a couple of weeks before Christmas 1999. He said how I screwed up Christmas and it was all my fault. We were back together after a week. He said that I could never make it without him and I believed it. For years I believed it.



We has our second daughter, Hayley in January of 2002. When Hayley was a month old we moved to Las Vegas. He took me further and further from my family. Moving so far from my family was so hard. It was only my daughters and I in a strange place. Some of his family was around, but I never asked for help. I had to prove something at all times. I had to be "Wonder Woman". So, it was the girls and I, he worked all day and the girls and I made the best of it. I would dread it when he came home from work, play time was over. Our laughing and dancing and having fun came to a halt. An hour before he came home, I would step into defensive mode. I would scurry around the house to make sure that everything was in place. He'd come through the door always in a bad mood. Never a hi, hello, always a grunt,"Whens dinner ready?" I would stand all through dinner. I'd serve serve him and the kids first. Then get my food. I would always be up getting someone something. I never had time to sit and enjoy it. Then after dinner, he'd criticize the food I made. "His Mom didn't make it that way." Then, I'd clean up dinner and give the kids a bath and put them to bed. I wouldn't sit down until 10 o'clock at night.

At times, I would have a job and would have to have everything done. He would be mad if he had to put a load of laundry in. I would have dinner ready before I went to work at night. I couldn't get close to anyone. I couldn't have friends. He would make comments about every person that I would try to be friends with.



Through the next years, we bought a house and had nice things, but there was always something missing. I became a hollow shell. Just going through the motions. I tried everything to make it work. I tried to fix me, I tried to clean more or to make more of the things he liked, but none of it mattered. I was never good enough. I wanted to go back to school to get my high school deploma and he just laughed,"You can't do that, you won't finish." I finally did it behind his back. He wanted me home and in his box.



There were many women. I, at first would confront him about it, but it got me now where. "You're crazy!" "Don't you have anything better to do with your time?" Your intuition tells you everything. I knew, walking into his Company parties, when certain women wouldn't look at me. I was a fool. I would look the other way, it was a losing fight to try to argue with him about it. What would I do? A single Mother, with no schooling. What would I do? "I couldn't make it without him." I knew, when I left, that he would try to take the girls from me. I was afraid and I had to make it work for the girls. I protected the girls. From their own Father. I didn't want them to go through what I was. My family knew very little. I would only tell my Mom about it. I hid everything that ever happend from his family.



We moved to Colorado in August 2005. After moving there, it got even worse. He was drinking every night and the egg shells got even thinner the knots in my stomache got even tighter. I was even farther away from my family. Cheyenne started the first grade. He was even shorter with her about her homework. She would walk away from the table crying most nights. I started to get her homework done before he got home from work.

We were meerly ghosts to eachother. I was physically sick. I had major digestive problems from prolonged stress. He said that it was all in my head.



After being in Colorado for a month, we decided to get a divorce. The night of December 2d, 2005. I called my parents during my Dad's 50th Birthday party. I was crying to my parents. They knew it was bad. His Mother told me that I was a selfish, lazy bitch, just like my Mother. I was so sad. I had never done anything to them to diserve that. I did nothing, but to try to please them. I learned so much from her. She was a big roll model in my life.

After that, I packed up my SUV and the kids and our dog. There was a blizzard outside and I only made it down the street. I had to turn around. I went back. I couldn't put my 2 little girls at risk.



I woke up the next morning and he wanted to make a deal with me. He offered us to stay until Cheyenne was off for winter breake. Just 2 weeks and we can pack and go through stuff in the mean time. I agreed. A week later, I found out that I was pregnant with our 3d child. The one we planned for. He insisted, that when I get to California, that I get an abortion. I wanted the baby, but I also didn't want another thing that he could control me with. At this time, I was emotionally and physically drained. I was numb, almost emotionless. I was tired of this fight. After that, he convinced me that it would be better if the girls gowith him to his parents in Vegas for a while. Until I get settled and get a job. Some how he got me to agree. I didn't want to be selfish. I knew the road for me ahead was going to be hard. Especially the thing I had to do when I dot to California. I didn't want them to see Mom in a disseray. I wanted them to see Mom as Mom. Not as a mess. I never wanted them to remember their Mom in that way. I was always strong.



Well, that was the biggest mistake I could ever make in my life. He suckered me into signing him over physical custody and it hasd been an endless battle ever since. I still get those stomache twisting, throw up feelings when he is around or when I have to talk to him. I divorced him, but he still controls me with our girls. I am remarried to an awsome, loving man. Who has been nothing but supportive and God gave us a 3d daughter, who has made me get out of bed, when I didn't want to. The girls have been through hell and back the last 4 years and Cheyenne has taken on my abuse from him. I pray and support her through it everyday. That'll be my next blog. "Children with Verbally Abusive Father's" and "Courts and Verbal Abuse".



I hope to give someone some insight and help in their situation. I will write more. Thanks for listening.