Dear Cinderella, I want to be like you

I met Nick in March of 2009 when I was fifteen. He was as perfect as reality could get. He was tall, six foot eight to be exact, and dwarfed my five foot four. He was sweet and sexy and smart all at the same time. He was also eighteen. It isn't a huge age gap, but it was enough to make my parents cautious. He was always polite to them and they slowly let down their guard. Although he was seemingly perfect, he had an air of danger around him; I didn't think anything of it. I'd always been attracted to the slightly more dangerous type.

Nick was a charmer. He made me feel special and important. He made me feel beautiful and mellow, which was a relief because my exuberant aura had started to become a problem at school and I was getting kicked out of classes for not being able to shut up and concentrate. He made me that girl ; the one who felt needed and desired. Desired enough to sleep with him on our third date. At fifteen. I wasn't in love, and he wasn't my first, but he was special. I discarded the slightly dangerous vibe I had gotten when I first met him, because I felt so much for him. I had no idea exactly how dangerous he was. I found out for the first time in July, just two weeks short of my sixteenth birthday.

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I shook my head, tears glazing my eyes and trailing down my cheeks.

"No."

"Look. It was a mistake. It doesn't matter. She's having an abortion, okay?" Overwhelmed, tears continued to stream down my face.

"Why? Why did you-"

"Amanda, it's over. Stop making a big deal about nothing." Nick's eyes cut into me like knives. Anger built and broke over the surface.

"Nothing?" I shrieked," Nothing? Cheating is nothing? Getting someone pregnant is nothing? What does that make you and me? Nothing."

I heard it before I felt it. The sickening sound of his fingers molding to my cheek, hard enough that I thought that my neck would surely snap under the shear pressure. Stunned, I looked up at him. He grabbed me roughly by the shoulders.

"Shut up! Shut up, you stupid bitch!" He pushed my body, so small next to his, against the wall. I continued to cry as my shoulders knocked into the hard surface over and over.

"You're going to leave? Go ahead. What are you without me?" Nick gave me a final push into the wall and held me there with a bruising pressure.
"What the fuck are you without me, Amanda?" I tried to yell, tried to scream, but my throat had closed up.

"Nothing," I finally whispered, ashamed. He wrapped his arms around me, "That's right. You're nothing. I make you."

We stayed like that for a long time; his fingers tangled in my hair, breath hot against my neck, my face pressed into the warm fabric of his shirt. When I finally looked up, I saw pain.

"Baby-" I held up my hand, my eyes refilling with tears.

"No. Babe, listen. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to, it was an accident. You have no idea how much pressure this situation is putting on me. I'm sorry, it'll never happen again."

"I know."

Then I let him press his lips to mine. I let him lead me up the stairs to my room. I did the only thing that someone who loves more than they are loved could do.

Of course, he lied.

Similar events all blend together in my mind. Moments where I said something that made him angry, when I was late, when I went somewhere with other people. I just got used to him calling demanding to know where I was; yelling at me for the slightest things. He didn't hit me again for the longest time. Day to day was a repeat of brutal flaring tempers and harsh words.

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Nick and I moved in together late August. My parents were sick of my "sneaking" around to see him. Finally, I just caved to his request to live together. I never realized how bad things could get until that decision was made.

Nick worked shifts at the Toyota dealership cleaning the cars and moving them. He was on afternoons one day, so I took the opportunity to work on my biology project with Alex. I had known Alex most of my life, and he was one of my closest friends, although I hadn't seen him outside of school in a long time.

"So how are you really doing, Amanda?" Alex looked me in the eye and I swallowed. He knew me so well, it was hard to hide from him.

"Great. It's nice to be out of my parents house I guess," I laughed a little, "Want a drink? I think there's some pop in the fridge..." He caught my arm as I turned away.

"You wouldn't lie to me, right? You'd tell me if there was something wrong?" I averted my eyes, pulling my arm away gently.

"Alex-"

"Amanda? Whose car is parked in our visitor spot?" The door swung open as Nick walked it. His eyes darted from Alex to me and back to Alex.

"Nick, hi. Uhm, you remember Alex?"

"Sure. Hey, man." He did well. At hiding his anger, I mean. I only caught the slightest glimpse of anger in his eyes.

"I, uh, should probably get going though," Alex muttered, beelining for the door, "Bye Amanda. Good to see you Nick."

"What was that?" Nick demanded. I sighed heavily, "It was just Alex."

"Alex who?"

"Nick, come on. You know who Alex is. We're just friends."

"Yeah right. Girls like you aren't just friends with guys." His eyes flashed with an anger that I knew all too well.

"Girls like me?" I repeated the phrase for no particular reason.

"Yes."

"What exactly are girls like me ?" I asked quietly.

"Whores." He spat the word.

"I'm not a-"

"Shut up." I closed my mouth and flinched as he raised his hand. He didn't hit me, but the mere idea of yet another episode reduced me to tears.

"You are a whore. How many dates before you slept with me, hm? Three? Don't you think I don't know about the other guys? I do, Amanda. I know that you're nothing but a slut."

I don't know why I had balls that night, but I did.

"I'm not a slut, okay? It's not like I slept with the whole fucking town. Jesus." I snapped, turning on my heel and stomping toward the bedroom. Nick grabbed my arm and yanked. Fire spread through my left side and I gasped.

"Baby, baby, baby," he shook his head, holding me an arm's length away, "When are you going to learn?" I stood statue still, waiting.

"I don't want to hurt you, but you need to listen to me," His grip tightened, turning my skin white, "And you need to stop whoring around." I couldn't help the eye roll, and screamed when his fist slammed into me.

"You stupid bitch!" Nick yelled, dropping me to the floor. I crumbled at his feet, covering my head against the blow of his shoe. He stared down at me for a second, before stepping over me and into the bedroom.

I lay on the floor for hours. When I finally went into the bedroom, the sex was hard and rough and added to the bruises that littered my body like stars.

I was a dead girl walking.

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By October I was so low that I didn't even want to get out of bed in the morning, knowing that I'd be going through the same damn thing. That I'd be waking up to morning after morning of my own failures that lead him to treat me the way he did. Not a day would go by that I didn't imagine what it would be like to die- that I didn't want to die- because it was a way out. I didn't go out with my friends, I didn't talk to my family, I was practically failing school. Nothing was worth it. I put the little energy and life I had left into pleasing him so that maybe he would think that I was worth it. That I was good enough that he didn't feel the need to hurt me.

On November third, someone finally heard my silence.

"Amanda?" My guidance counsellor poked her head out. I stood numbly and walked into her office, settling into the cushioned chair that she motioned to.

"Amanda, I'm worried. You're falling two of your four classes. It says here that you're not living at home right now... where are you living?"

"Uhm, my boyfriend's."

"Are you working?" I shook my head.

"Why aren't you doing your homework then?" I just shook my head again, tears pooling in the corners of my eyes.

"Is something going on?" She asked. I shook my head frantically, standing up. I was prepared to walk out. Never come back to school, never look back. She grabbed my arm and I reeled back, smacking my back against the closed door. Her eyes filled with and emotion I didn't understand. Empathy.

"Jesus. What is he doing to you?"

She changed my life.

With kind eyes, she waited as I cried before uttering the words that were like acid on my tongue, "He hits me." Three words that took what felt like an eternity to get out. The horrified look on her face made me think that it was all a mistake, before she finally spoke. She had been in my situation. Throughout all of this, I'd read many books about what Nick was doing, but I never really thought of the fact that I was not alone, because I felt so alienated. She gave me the number of someone that I could call and talk to; I'm not sure if I have the courage to call them right now, but the fact that there are people out there who care is important. She recommended that I talk to my doctor about the possibility of anti-depressants, although I shuddered at the thought of synthetic happiness. We spoke for at least an hour and I felt a huge burden being lifted off my shoulders.

Just days ago, I had been contemplating the thought of erasing myself from this world and now, I have a whole new hope. I am still with him, and he is still the same way. There is a piece of me that is holding on so tightly to him just because I don't know what I am without him. He's everything I've become accustomed to. I don't know what is in store for my future; for his future; for our future. But I do know this: I am important and what he's doing is not okay.

I will survive.

Thank you for saving me.