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.

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.

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…

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