Those things you want to forget
I’m writing this six years after it happened. My brain mostly just blurred it out as it was too difficult to deal with. 6 years of doubt, culpability, because for everyone well if it happens to a girl she “kinda asked for it”.
So there it is. No one asks for it. There is no fucking excuse for hurting someone. None. Whatsoever. And every person is this situation should be helped not persecuted, not treated as if she was lying, almost like a criminal.
I was beaten, abused, humiliated, insulted, threatened. One night he left me on the highway without a phone or credit card. I had to walk home at 1am under the rain for 10km. Another day he attacked me with a fork then throws several bottle at my head. He threatened my family, said that he would murder me if I only dare to leave him.
I was scared, petrified. Yes I should have left, I should have done so many things but the thing is when being abused you get to this point where they make you think it’s your fault. That you “deserve it”. And you’re just so use to be insulted, threatened than you don’t do anything.
I finally called the police, even registered a complaint against him at the risk of repercussions (he knew where I lived, where I went to school). He had what we call in France a “rappel a la loi”. Basically a judge just told him that he should not do it again. Knowing that, he pressured me to change my testimony, to stay with him, I even had to drive his car to the court as his driver licence was suspended. Just a few days after I thought I was finally done but when I went home he was waiting for me in front of my apartment and beat me up. Badly, but just enough so that it could be the result of a fall. He was clever like that. Never did anything that could be seen like on my face.
Things ended up only when I threatened him of going to the police again while staying at my parent’s house (which he didn’t know). This time he knew that he would have some real problems. But in the mean time everything could happen to me. For month I was looking over my shoulder each time I went home. For month I couldn’t sleep at night, scared that he would come back, I jumped each time I saw a car like his, terrified that he could be following me. That anything could happen to me.
So yes, sadly I’m not surprised that so many women still die by the hand of their husband/boyfriend, in France as in other countries.
Because the justice system is still not doing anything to protect them.
2087
gracieabrams
jimmyeatworldofficial
gummygunk
