The mood was back and sinking in while the fun was on with the jelly pack. I loved Pat so much. He knew how to turn and touch my buttons, but lately the fruity was just lame. It was painful, fast and rough. I would tear with blood for weeks and become brutally hurt down there; it always ended with an emotional scar for me. This was a shocking experience for me, because our sexual engagement was never like this before.

He would cry and spend a few minutes in the bathroom. When asked what was wrong, he would show the lime jelly on the closed door lid. Emotionally, it really got me as it was everything I thought about every day. I prayed to God every night to revive our relationship, but it got worse and worse. Every time he came back home, he returned with an ugly face. All I wanted was to get out of this mess, but every time I raised the issue, he would plead, weeping that he did not want to lose me, because I was his strength. I knew that I deserved better, but I wanted to help him overcome his troubles as I loved him so much.

I remember it was late one night and we were having a little picnic, so romantic that I could almost recall our past love. Until we started fighting over a stupid quiz. I mean, Pat had developed a disposition as though he knew everything and did not want to be found guilty. The raising of his voice and the anger like a grade-two child, made me feel scared to be around him. We would be quiet for a moment until I rescued myself by going to sleep. For the sake of guilt, he would send a jelly tot for ‘I am sorry’ and try to seek my apology until he got it.

Something seemed not right when he refused to see the counsellor. Weeks and months went by without us even engaging sexually. It was like he was no longer interested in me. I was just labelled the girlfriend, but he was never there. The only relationship that was left for me was with my books, and they kept me going, because I was fighting for that degree.

One night he came knocking at the back window of my residence room late, around 2 a.m. The minute I opened, he just threw me back on my bed and started kissing me heavily. He became so rough and hard. Pat started hunting and fighting to penetrate me, unprotected. I refused, but he kept pushing me, and he ended up fighting for it to the point that he pinned me to the head board.

I could not believe that the guy I loved was doing this to me.

I cried so badly that my body was full of tears. With his power, he started pleasing himself forcefully, and I cried loudly as I was tearing and blood was coming. He wanted to shut me up, so he hit me hard. I was crying and praying aloud, “God, please let me be alive, as I would really love to be an ecologist.”

While swearing at me to shut up, he took a pillow to keep me quiet and continued to please himself forcefully. Luckily my roommate was doing a late-night study session, so when she saw Pat doing that to me; she automatically called the police. Pat faced jail for his future, while I was rescued to the hospital. I could not believe that a pack of jellies could have cost my life.

***

Tell us: Why do you think Pat refused to get help?