I don't know where to begin. Most classic "stories" begin like: "Once upon a time...". I wish it were that easy for me. My story has many turns, and unexpected plot twists, that sometimes it's even hard for me to follow it.
Since I don't know what the "beginning" of my story is, I will start where I am.
Here goes.. 48 hours from now will mark 1 year to the day that I called 911, for the last time on "the other party". I was being forcefully pushed out my front door by someone I once knew, in hopes that I would fall down the concrete porch stairs and bust my head open or get hurt in someway or another. I mustered up enough strength to brace myself in the door frame so that I would not find my body broken, or bloody on the porch stairs. To say I was afraid would be an understatement.
The intense rage I fell victim to was so surreal, the fear even larger than life. Yet I knew that it was very much reality and it would be the last time I would allow it to go on. That day I called 911 and the other party was arrested. That is the short version, with a lot of detail omitted.
The sad thing is, somedays, I can't remember, other days I wish I could forget.
