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Description
Part One.
We were young.  Only juniors.  I skipped writing my essay and got an extension to go to that party.  I didn't go to parties often.  I was always such a good girl...right? I was already pretty wasted when I heard him.  I turned around.  He was beautiful.  Was it real or was it the alcohol? It must've been real.

Part Two.
The beginning of senior year.  We were sitting under a tree, trying to study for economics.  He said he loved me.  I said okay.  I thought that was the end of it.  But he never stopped trying.

Part Three.
We finished school.  No more lectures, no more seminars.  At least for now.  We stayed together for over a year.  That had to mean something...right?  Maybe not.  After graduation we ran.  We ran across campus and found it.  Our tree, our place.  He said he loved me.  I said I loved him too.  Then he asked me to marry him.

Part Four.
We were married now.  For six days to be exact.  It wasn't the same as before.  Something was different.  He had a job now, but he wouldn't let me work.  He left early and came home late.  Maybe it was just me, but he seemed angrier too.

Part Five.
It's been five months since we could call ourselves newlyweds.  He came home early again today.  He wasn't drunk.  Yet.  I asked him how his day was and he snapped at me.  Before I knew, I was cowering in a corner begging him not to hit me.  He didn't.  That time.

Part Six.
I married him a year ago today.  He's been hitting me for over ten months now.  Not just hitting like at first even.  He would kick me.  Scratch me.  Cut me. Burn me. Through the nearest steel fixture at me.  Whatever made him feel better, at least I think it did.  But it would all be alright.  He would kiss me.  He would tell me that he loved me and I would tell him I loved him too. I had too.  I was crying and  hurt, but he said I had his love and that was enough.

Part Seven.
I'm pregnant.  Six weeks pregnant.  I wouldn't go to the checkup appointments like I was supposed to. How could I?  When I had all of these marks.  From him?  I couldn't, so I didn't.

Part Eight.
My baby girl is four months old now.  He stopped for a while.  When she was born he told me not to love her more than I love him.  Don't tell him this, but I secretly love her more.

Part Nine.
My baby girl is four years old.  Not so much of a baby, now is she?  She's in kindergarten.  I started going out again.  I went to school meetings and met some of the moms.  They seemed happy and carefree and I was jealous.  I became close with one.  When I finally told her what he was doing to me, she called the cops.  He started three years ago again.  It would mostly happen when I fell asleep.  I needed it to end.  He tried to hurt my baby, and I would let him.  So he threw me against the wall.  When they were carrying him off, he said I love you.  I said okay.  Maybe he will die in two days and maybe he'll live to be 100.  But I'll never see him again.  And I'm free.

Description
Part One.
We were young.  Only juniors.  I skipped writing my essay and got an extension to go to that party.  I didn't go to parties often.  I was always such a good girl...right? I was already pretty wasted when I heard him.  I turned around.  He was beautiful.  Was it real or was it the alcohol? It must've been real.

Part Two.
The beginning of senior year.  We were sitting under a tree, trying to study for economics.  He said he loved me.  I said okay.  I thought that was the end of it.  But he never stopped trying.

Part Three.
We finished school.  No more lectures, no more seminars.  At least for now.  We stayed together for over a year.  That had to mean something...right?  Maybe not.  After graduation we ran.  We ran across campus and found it.  Our tree, our place.  He said he loved me.  I said I loved him too.  Then he asked me to marry him.

Part Four.
We were married now.  For six days to be exact.  It wasn't the same as before.  Something was different.  He had a job now, but he wouldn't let me work.  He left early and came home late.  Maybe it was just me, but he seemed angrier too.

Part Five.
It's been five months since we could call ourselves newlyweds.  He came home early again today.  He wasn't drunk.  Yet.  I asked him how his day was and he snapped at me.  Before I knew, I was cowering in a corner begging him not to hit me.  He didn't.  That time.

Part Six.
I married him a year ago today.  He's been hitting me for over ten months now.  Not just hitting like at first even.  He would kick me.  Scratch me.  Cut me. Burn me. Through the nearest steel fixture at me.  Whatever made him feel better, at least I think it did.  But it would all be alright.  He would kiss me.  He would tell me that he loved me and I would tell him I loved him too. I had too.  I was crying and  hurt, but he said I had his love and that was enough.

Part Seven.
I'm pregnant.  Six weeks pregnant.  I wouldn't go to the checkup appointments like I was supposed to. How could I?  When I had all of these marks.  From him?  I couldn't, so I didn't.

Part Eight.
My baby girl is four months old now.  He stopped for a while.  When she was born he told me not to love her more than I love him.  Don't tell him this, but I secretly love her more.

Part Nine.
My baby girl is four years old.  Not so much of a baby, now is she?  She's in kindergarten.  I started going out again.  I went to school meetings and met some of the moms.  They seemed happy and carefree and I was jealous.  I became close with one.  When I finally told her what he was doing to me, she called the cops.  He started three years ago again.  It would mostly happen when I fell asleep.  I needed it to end.  He tried to hurt my baby, and I would let him.  So he threw me against the wall.  When they were carrying him off, he said I love you.  I said okay.  Maybe he will die in two days and maybe he'll live to be 100.  But I'll never see him again.  And I'm free.