AW:M1EX4

Time Travel: Select and write out one horror story from your monster hall of fame. You do not need to write long or much, but do jot down whatever details come back to you [...]. Include whatever rankles you about the incident. [...] You may find it cathartic to draw a sketch of your old monster or to clip out an image that evokes the incident for you. Cartoon trashing your monster, or at least draw a nice red X through it. ~ The Artist's Way. Pg. 38

I was fourteen. I was full of hope and dreams. [Redacted] was a monster in more ways than just figurative. [Redacted] was eighteen. They thought they had the rights to me in all ways because I was dating them. When [Redacted] discovered that I was a writer, they laughed at me. They mocked me in front of their friends. I didn't dare do anything about it because I knew that [Redacted] would hurt me later for it, badly. When [Redacted] realized I was better at English than they were, they tried to pressure me into writing their papers for them. I refused. After our next 'date', I was sporting a matching pair of hand prints on my upper arms from when they grappled me and insisted that I was being an uppity 'slut' because I didn't do what they wanted. That was the week I learned from one of [Redacted]'s ex-girlfriends how to use concealer to cover up bruises.

I stopped talking about my interests and my grades began to slip as I tried to play 'dumb' so that [Redacted] wouldn't hurt me. It didn't work so great. [Redacted] still hurt me. And I got in trouble for my grades slipping.

I still have a picture of [Redacted] in a scrap book. I threw away [Redacted]'s gifts to me and things when I broke up with them. But I have that picture to remind me that [Redacted] didn't break me. I'm probably going to burn the other pictures before my children see them. Or something.

Postscript: The list of 'monsters' that I have is long and varied. All of it continues to haunt me. Which is part of the reason why I write. Because then it is out of my head and down on paper.