Minot Pt. II

I began coming home late at night so I could spend most of my day away from him. When he was gone for football games, I would pray something would happen to keep him away from home longer. I was desperate for peace. 

Even though I was doing my best to cope and hide what was going on from the people around me, the abuse was starting to become apparent. The secrets I was working so hard to keep were beginning to spill out. One night, we were at my "big brother’s" house—Thomas (RIP)—when my abuser grabbed me aggressively, and Thomas caught sight of it. He immediately pulled me aside and told me that although he didn’t know what was going on, if he saw anything like that again, he would step in. The look in my eyes when I was grabbed and the way I was grabbed were enough to concern him.

Within six months of me being back with him, things had become unbearable. I had uncovered more secrets, I was losing more weight, my hair was falling out, and I wasn’t getting my period due to stress. I was still playing a very dangerous game, trying to numb myself on the many nights when I didn’t want to feel anything. I started planning a safe way to leave, but one night, everything I’d planned was thrown out the window.

As much as I wanted to leave for good this time, I was terrified after what had happened when I left the first time. During the second stint of living with him, there were moments when I tried to leave, but each time, he would take my phone and smash the screen beyond repair ( in a new environment, thousands of miles from home your phone is your life line).  He’d done this before when I lived with him in New Mexico, and I had lost count of how many times I had to replace my phone screen throughout our relationship. Once, while in North Dakota, he even hid my car keys by throwing them in the trash without my knowledge. I didn’t have a spare key, and it wasn’t until hours of crying and begging—and with some help from others—that he finally gave them back.

The last night he ever laid his hands on me was at a party the boys were throwing at our house. When I first moved to Minot, we were living in an apartment just the two of us. In early December, he decided he wanted to move into a house with four of his teammates—much to my annoyance. Little did I know, this would turn out to be a blessing. This wasn’t the first time he had physically attacked me in front of people, but it was the first time anyone had stepped in to protect me. That night ended with one of my “brothers” holding me as I bawled my eyes out, and me calling my parents to let them know I was coming home.

Two days later...I left again and drove 27 hours home to California.