We had pulled off the highway and into a remote parking lot at 2:00 AM. Without saying anything, my husband got out of the car and went to get something in the trunk. I was sure I was going to die. I sat in the passenger seat wondering how he was going to kill me. Would it be a gun? A knife? A tire iron? I put my hand on the car door handle, but I knew I would never be able to outrun him. Maybe it was better if I did die... it would be the only way I could escape from him. In my mind, I begged him to just go ahead and end it all. After eight years of marriage, those were my thoughts on that cold day in March 2011. Why would I think those things? He had never even hit me. In fact, people in our neighborhood thought we had the perfect marriage. However, I would later come to understand that I had been emotionally abused.
Posted on: Wed, 14 Jan 2015 19:34:51 +0000
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