Friends… I Sure Know How to Pick ‘Em

I’ve never been the type of person to surround myself with a large group of friends. I have one or two friends and consider the rest acquaintances (some closer than others, but acquaintances nonetheless). Back in first grade, my friend was a horse enthusiast like myself, but the difference between her and me was that she had horses. Our play dates and sleepovers consisted of running out to the paddock, finding an unassuming horse, tie a lead to it’s halter and jump on. Continue reading

Part III

I’m writing out my life in a timeline, so to experience my story the way its supposed to be told, start at I Was That Girl In School… then proceed chronologically by post date.

It was over. My mind was racing and I was full of emotions: happy that he was gone; angry about what he did; relieved that I was still alive; sad that I let it happen; scared that he would come back. What do I do now?

First thing was first: lock the door. After he left, I ran to the door and switched the lock in place. I went to the front door that was never used and made sure that one was locked as well. I looked at the clock in the kitchen. It was mid morning; right around the same time that my class would have been released, which also meant that I was to head to work. Continue reading

Part II

I’m writing out my life in a timeline, so to experience my story the way its supposed to be told, start at I Was That Girl In School… then proceed chronologically by post date.

We have all imagined scenarios in our heads and thought about how we would handle them. What if a robber was running towards me on the sidewalk clutching another woman’s bag? I would stick my leg out and trip that sucker before he got away. What if I witnessed a car accident on the highway that ended with it catching fire? I would stop and offer to help. Maybe pull the driver from the burning wreckage… But believe me when I say: what you think you would do and what you actually do can be very different. Continue reading

Part I

I’m writing out my life in a timeline, so to experience my story the way its supposed to be told, start at I Was That Girl In School… then proceed chronologically by post date.

I know what you’re thinking: “How does it get any worse?” I had mentioned in another post that I endured being blackmailed into having sexual encounters with The Recluse because I knew that it wouldn’t last; once he had his way with me, I would be back in the arms of the one person I truly loved. How messed up is that!? Continue reading

Start Over…?

I’m writing out my life in a timeline, so to experience my story the way its supposed to be told, start at I Was That Girl In School… then proceed chronologically by post date.

If you haven’t guessed by now, this is the point in my life when things greyed (as mentioned in my Intro). I had been repeatedly raped, blackmailed, and my boyfriend, the love of my life, had just left me after finding out. I was alone. I was depressed. I was suicidal. And all for what? Something terrible happened to ME, and as a result, the one person in this world that I cared for the most turned his back on me, and considered himself the victim. The worst part: I believed I deserved it.

The only good thing that came out of that fateful night was that The Recluse had disappeared: no texts, no calls, no random appearances. He was gone. Continue reading

Is It True!?

I’m writing out my life in a timeline, so to experience my story the way its supposed to be told, start at I Was That Girl In School… then proceed chronologically by post date.

What if he’s bluffing? He wouldn’t tell people. He’s just mad that I’m not his slave anymore; that I’ve finally stood up for myself.

Boyfriend had showed up just like he did hundreds of nights before. It was approaching dinner time. Mom was in the kitchen making dinner, Dad was in the family room on his laptop, and Boyfriend and I were in the living room watching tv. For a fleeting moment, my life was normal. This was how many evenings were spent in our household. That was until he showed up… Continue reading

You Came On to Me

I’m writing out my life in a timeline, so to experience my story the way its supposed to be told, start at I Was That Girl In School… then proceed chronologically by post date.

Often times, when I was working on assignments at Boyfriend’s, The Recluse would come over to visit. At first, I welcomed the distraction from school work. We would spend some time shooting the breeze until I felt my second wind coming, in which time I would politely excuse myself back to my work, and Continue reading

Prudish Love

I’m writing out my life in a timeline, so to experience my story the way its supposed to be told, start at I Was That Girl In School… then proceed chronologically by post date.

It wasn’t the typical storybook love affair girls romanticize about by any means, but at the time, it was my fairytale.

We met on the school bus. I greeted him in the early hours when he first got on and asked him his name (this forwardness was, nor has it ever been, my thing, but on this particular bus, everyone was family). He was wearing ratty jeans and a tie-dye t-shirt topped off with a choker that showed off a Crush bottle cap (the orange soda…). Interesting. The next time Continue reading

I Was That Girl In School…

I’m writing out my life in a timeline, so to experience my story the way its supposed to be told, start here and continue.

I was that girl in school that other girls didn’t like (so I’ve been told). I blossomed earlier than most of my peers of the female variety and boys noticed. This was roughly the same time I began my life phase as a gothic chick. Not that I worshipped the devil or anything. I just wore black EVERYTHING: baggie pants with chains hanging off the back, way too much eye liner, studded everything, topped off with black shirts (usually decorated with some sort of mean or funny quip written on it). I’m sure I scared some people, but I liked the way I looked and I didn’t care what other snots my age thought. I started dating a guy Continue reading