My story prompt today is
Write a story that starts with 10 and counts down.
I decided to write for you a story that is based on actual events BUT that has been embellished (Sadly, only slightly) for story purposes. This post will have TRIGGERS: Forced Sexual Contact or Rape and Mental abuse. If this is a problem for you, please do NOT go forward from here. While events in this story have embellished, they are based on things I, personally, have felt and dealt with.
*Author's Notes. Yes, this is based on a true story that I lived through. The embellishments are purely descriptive and the actual acts actually happened. I decided to do this as a form of therapy for myself and to help me better tell my story to my daughters who I will teach to better protect themselves against these acts. While I took dramatic action, I do not condone it being done if there are any other options. I just could not see any at the time when this happened to me. --Chelsey
COUNTDOWN.
10. The number of times we went on actual dates. We never did go where I wanted. We only saw the movies you wanted and ate at restaurants that you chose. According to you, I was too young to know what was good. There may have only been 2 years difference in our age, but I believed you when you said you knew better than me. I didn't know that I even liked horror films or scary movies. I was sure I didn't, but you told me that I did, so I continued to watch with you. We were always together, even if we didn't go out. You said I wasn't ready to be seen yet, but you would get me there.
9 times you told me I was lucky that you loved me because no one else ever would. I was too fat to be loved by anyone but you. You picked my meals for me so that I could lose weight and be beautiful. Every meal you bought me was to help me become what you wanted me to be. It was a better me. A lighter me. A me that you would be proud to have on your arm. It would just take time and change to make me pretty.
8 months that I was lead to believe were the best that I could hope for. Months that I fought to keep you looking at me because I was what you wanted. I was trying so hard to be the girl that kept your eye. Even as you continually looked around and commented on how I could look like that girl if I worked out harder or ate less at dinner. That my eyes would be prettier if I wore more makeup. Or that my lips would be plumper if I let you nibble them when we kissed, no matter how much I told you it hurt and I didn't like it.
7 times you took my plate away from me at a meal because I was eating more than you thought I should. I let it happen even as I was still hungry and had only eaten 3 or 4 bites because you bought that dress for me and I needed to fit in it to make you happy. You spent money on me and I owed you for that. Just like I owed you for every car ride to school. You had other places to be and your love was all that kept you coming to get me when you were getting nothing in return.
6 times I told you "no" that night. No to any more kisses because my lip was bleeding. No, I didn't really want you to leave. No, I didn't want you mad at me. No to taking off my shirt even as you ripped it, saying it was a mistake it tore. No to your intimate touch because I wasn't ready to take that step. No........ but it was too late. You pushed me to my knees as you presented yourself.
5 times you smacked my face to get me to open my bleeding lips. As tears streamed down my face I knew that I didn't want you anywhere close to me ever again. I didn't know how to get away from what was happening. I was repulsed by myself as I was forced to be so belittled and treated like dirt..... No. LESS than dirt. I was a toy to be used and thrown away.
4 times I gagged as you pushed so hard that I could not breathe. You didn't care how you treated me. You only cared that I was so beaten down that I had stopped fighting back. I wasn't sure how being with a man could ever be enjoyable if this is the way a woman was treated. Every time I tried to get away or even pull back, I was shoved down further. You pulled my hair and relished in my tears as I tried to scream when I had no air.
3 minutes that I couldn't get away. 3 minutes of torture and pain. All the while formulating a plan for my eventual escape. How had I not seen it before? You tried to make me weak. I was bigger in weight than you. You were your own downfall because I had more muscles than you with all of your workouts. I had POWER. It was just time for me to take it.
2 eyes that finally saw you for what you were. Eyes that took in all that you were and saw an empty shell of a man who used and abused women because it made him feel better. A man that preyed on the weak and misunderstood. Those women who had no love for themselves. I was no longer going to be that woman! You will no longer have power over this woman.
1 set of teeth. A scream from your lips. A night that I will never forget. I have made it a point to never forget and never let it happen again.
1 woman walking alone down a dark street, more alone than ever, but feeling like she owned the world, even as the blood still fell from her broken lips.
2 months of avoiding the places we had gone together. The fear of what you told your friends kept me from the places that I once loved to go. I felt like I was in hiding, but I was actually free. Free of you, free of your diets. I still worked out, I found a love for it, but not to lose weight. To gain muscle. I would think of that night during every workout and lift just a little bit more thinking about how it would be different if that night were to play out again.
3 years later I found a real man. One that loved me for what was in front of me and wanted me to set the pace of the relationship. A man who listened when I said no. A man that would show me off to all his friends because he thought I was funny and pretty, without changing a thing.
4 children that are being taught what consent is. Children that I am helping to raise to love a person for who they are. Children who are told as much as possible that they are beautiful. Children who will love themselves so that they don't have to depend on someone like you for a feeling of self-worth.
5 times I have told the story of what you did and it wasn't believed. There were many times that I almost felt like I must have made the whole thing up. That it was my fault that you treated me the way you did.
6 times I have seen your mother. On the street, in a shop, even the doctor's office. So many times I looked at her and wondered what she has gone through that she raised a son who could treat a woman like you did. Did she even know that you act that way? Was it only with me that you acted like that? Or were you brought up in a home where that was something normal?
7 times a day I catch myself looking in the mirror wondering what my husband sees in me because I am ugly.
8 times a day I remind myself that my husband is NOTHING like you and it doesn't matter what you think of me because I am loved by him for the way I am, looks, thoughts, feelings, eating habits, and all. He makes sure to tell me how much he loves me and how he would give me the world just because I am there. My husband always makes sure that I know that he has no thoughts to look at other women because, in his eyes, none compare to my beauty. My husband treats me with respect and caring without expecting a single thing in return. This means that I am free to give him all the love I can and I don't feel obligated to do things for him, but I find myself wanting too, purely to see the smile of appreciation that comes across his amazing face.
9 friends who have come to me and told me that they no longer talk to you because of the things they have seen and heard. Friends who have apologized for not believing that it was right for me to leave. Friends who admitted they were wrong about you and how they wished they could go back in time and save me from you. Friends I have forgiven for not being there for me when I needed them the most.
10. My number on a scale of 1 to 10 of how my life has improved since the night we parted. At times I still feel your influence, but time has dulled your sting. Time has given me the tools to push you to the side when the old feelings surface again. Love has made you powerless against me.
I will leave you in the past where you belong.
I will take love.
Short stories written by 3 members of the same family, showcasing how people raised close, can still have such vastly different takes on the same prompts
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