My story is probably as normal as they come. That is, if abuse is ever "normal". I met him when I was 14 years old. He was so beautiful and so suave and of course, he was the older man. I was a freshman in high school and he was a senior. We started going out half way through my freshman year. I lived in a small town and it was safe to say that everyone knew how he was, but NO ONE told me. After a wonderful relationship for about a year, I guess I started to grow up and become more independant and he hated it. The first time he ever layed a hand on me, he gave me a concussion and a sprained wrist. So, needless to say, it started out bad and got worse. What made things so bad was the fact that I was in high school and I had to go through everything alone knowing that everyone else KNEW what was going on (and, even worse, no one tried to help me). The abuse went on for months and I went on making excuses for my new bruise or why my arm was in a sling. It was during my senior year that I met Christy. SHE was the reason I left him. She told me that I was worth more and deserved more than the cards that I was dealt. After I met her, I had a surge of impowerment and I took astand for ME. Needless to say, he WAS NOT impressed by ny new-found freedom and it made him "need" to control me more. Well, it all came to a head at a softball game in which we fought over me going to get him a drink and he came out of the dug-out and knocked the hell out of me in front of all our friends. Well, it was at that point that I got my revenge. I picked up a baseball bat and I hit him 5 times before people came to his defense and stopped me. They actually let me hit him because they thought he deserved it. Well, I know that revenge isn't the answer, but it made me feel better. It was that day that I left and never looked back. I was so scared to leave him, but when you have just one person there to support you, it makes all the difference in the world. I never had any children with him, so it was easier for me to leave him. All in all, I had, in three years, 57 trips to the hospital for concussions, sprains, cut, and swelling. It is hard to say what you feel that makes you stay, but what made me leave was the fact that I knew I would never live to watch my children grow up if I stayed with him, and I knew, probably sooner than later, I would be killed by this man. He came close MANY times and I will always remember the feeling that I won the day I walked away. This story may not make any difference to anyhone, but it shows you that if a 17 year old can get away, then you can too.
Brandi Lee Ballinger