Part II

So now you've figured out that James and I were in a "honeymoon state"...the part of the relationship where absolutely nothing goes wrong. This lasted for about 9 months until finally, things started to go wrong.

In this time, Dakota, Ice and I had become really good friends. James, of course didn't like this.

This brings me to when things started to get violent.

Everything had been going wrong lately. James had been irritable, fights had been getting harder...I was changing. I had become this terrible little human that lived to fight, breathed the smell of fear coming off the other fighters. I needed that to survive, that's what I lived for. James did too, unfortuneatly, and pretty soon, he was taken out of the fights again for an old injury. Once night, before one of my fights, we were hanging out in Dakota's basement, Dakota, James, Ice and I, and just talking, when Dakota started what would be the worst night of my life. "Well Avalanche doesn't it kinda piss you off that your girl is fighting and you're not?" he asked, kidding of course. James glared at him. "She's not fighting tonight." he stated. I looked at him. "Yeah, okay. Because you have a say in that, right?" I said angrily. He reached over and grabbed my arm roughly. "We're leaving." he growled. Dakota stepped infront of him as he started to drag me to the door. "James, calm down bud I was only kidding." he said. James glared at him. "We're still leaving." he said. Then he pulled me out the door and we rode home to his apartment, where things were about to get worse.
I walked infront of him to the door, trying to figure out away to calm him down. As soon as I opened the door, he reached forward and pushed me as hard as he could, sending me to the floor. I turned over and looked up at him. "What the hell..." I started. He knelt down next to me and clamped a hand over my mouth. " You don't say a word. You're the reason why I can't fight." he breathed in my face. I smelled alchohol all over him and I realized that I wasn't going to win this. I nodded and stared up at him, calculating what to do next. He glared at me, then took his hand from my mouth. "Get up." he said quietly. I got to my feet and backed up a little, bumping into a table inback of me, which held a telephone. James started towards me, his eyes blazing. "You afraid of me?" He asked. I nodded a little. "Yeah...I am..." I said uncertainly. He dove at me then, pushing me hard against the back of the table. "You're about to get alot more afraid."

The rest of the night sort of went by in a dream. More like a nightmare. He was all over me, hitting me, other things that should never be mentioned or thought for that matter. He knew what would hurt me most and so he did it, not caring what I did. When he brought me home that night, he kissed me on the cheek and nodded towards the house. "Better get yourself home so you can come out tomorrow." he said. I stared at him, then backed out of the truck. I ran to the house and never looked back, not that I could see much...my eyes hurt so badly from the tears and the blood and the sweat that all I could see or wanted to see was my own death. And sometimes, looking back on the months and years I went through this same thing almost every month, the rape, the beatings, everything, I wish I had quit.

I wish alot of things though....

To be continued...