Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he got off me. I said nothing to him hoping that this devastating scenario had finally ended. I was focusing on the throbbing sensation that was coming from my thigh. I was ready to chalk it up to him being drunk. I was such a forgiving person then, or maybe just naïve would be a better way of describing me. I
found out much, much later that I was trying to gain acceptance and
approval from Q. Which explains why I was not angrier with him for
almost knocking my muscle out of my thigh. I am still a forgiving person today; however I only forgive those worthy of forgiveness.
I eyed Q as he went to the closet, neatly hung up his clothes and changed into a sweat suit and sneakers. He lunged towards the bed and pounced on it. He pulled me off the bed, dragging me to the floor, feet first. The back of my head hit the floor with a thud. At this point I was dumbfounded and really petrified. Being abusive was foreign to me. I was never abused before in my LIFE! This type of stuff one only read or saw in the movies right? I concluded if I was quiet and did not resist him, he would get discouraged and leave me alone. Fat chance; who was I kidding?
Q
grabbed the extension cord that just happened to conveniently be on top
of the dresser. He removed all of my clothes, forced me to the lie on
the floor and onto my stomach, put my hands behind my back and tied my
feet to my hands. I am now on my stomach with my hands tied to my feet, behind my back. Isn’t this the wildest thing that you have ever heard? Well maybe it isn’t, but when it was happening to me it felt like an out-of-body experience, that’s for sure. Still, I said nothing. I was beyond fright. I was now scared stiff! I never let him see how afraid I really was, although I don’t see how he couldn’t have seen the fear in me, and I think that enraged him even more. Sometimes people that have lost all power come across as being very much in control. It was an understatement to say that Q came across as being “in control.” He behaved as though he thought of himself as God, and I was one of the millions of people living in his world.
Q
dragged my body to the corner just behind my bedroom door, turned the
lights off seemingly without doubt or hesitation, and as naturally as
one would breathe, he walked out! He closed the door
behind him consciously, as though he was exiting the bedroom of a
colicky baby who had finally quieted down and fallen asleep. Q closed that door s-l-o-w-l-y and released the doorknob even slower. Not only did he leave the room, he left the apartment!
I don’t remember how long I was left on the floor in the darkness that night. I do remember thinking how grateful I was that my children were visiting their dad for the weekend. I knew that I was way too terrified to say anything or move. I
was cold and confused and kicking myself in the ass for getting
involved with this idiot and staying with him for five years, knowing
that he was married. But when you’re alone and insecure, you do things and make decisions that are totally in opposition to being rational.
I was too afraid to utter a sound so eventually I drifted off to sleep.