My name is Sam. His name was Travis, at the age of seventeen. We were dating for a good two months. In the beginning of the relationship I had to take a trip to California. It was for my sister's wedding (10.10.10) . Travis and I were dating for less than a week when I left. Of course I did everything a tourist would do. Go to the beach, visit the amusement parks, and swim. Well, he didn't like that and didn't trust me at all. He'd call every hour of the day. When I was at the parks he wouldn't stop calling or texting and if I didn't reply or answer he would freak out. We'd always talk at night. It ended up going till the morning. There were several fights throughout this time. Such as one where I said it's terrible that he's been calling me this much. He didn't really raise his voice much but it was the words and how he stated that made me cry almost every night. We'd end it with a make up. I was forced to say I loved him.
When I got back we did ohkay. There were frequent fights. Fights that took over text, call, and in life. Many of them was because I did something wrong. Like as an example, there was a day that we had to catch the public bus to a skate park in the other city. I wanted to drop my coat at his house before we went to catch the bus. Which we did go put my coat in his room. Then as we were walking to the bus stop, As we looked forward the bus we had to be on passed by. Travis snapped his head and me and something of this nature he said, 'Great. You made us miss the bus.' When he got mad at me in person he wouldn't say much but negative stuff. As we were sitting on the bench waiting for the other bus he said a whole bunch of negative things like, 'You're bad luck.' 'Seriously, you're stupid why would you leave your coat at my house, you're probably going to complain its cold out later.' and a whole bunch of cuss words with that. He only cussed face to face.
But, the main point is, he molested me one day and it was repeated over and over. Sometimes up to five times a day. The first day I went to my house he went to his closet and pulled out a gun. I knew it was there, and he showed me the bullets. I freaked and asked him to put it away. He asked if I was scared, and of course I said, 'yes'. He told me stories about using it. I believed him, i heard stories from others before. I had no clue what I was getting myself into before I got in the relationship. I'll describe one time he molested me that is really memorable. We got back from school and we went straight to his room where he grabbed me by my hips and we kissed, and kissed. He threw me onto the bed (Not playfully either). and basically he took my clothes off and his. At this point I'm trying to stop him and saying, 'I don't want to do this. I don't.' He didn't care much to what I had to say. And kept going. He shoved his finger in my vagina. I had never had that at that point. I was a innocent girl and that's not a joke, I was known as that girl that hasn't done anything. I tensed up majorly. He was sitting and i was laying down. i knew i couldn't hurt him in anyways because of the gun in the closet. I have strong paranoia. So at the time i had thought if I hurt him by digging my nails in him or screaming on the top of my lungs he'd shoot me. I couldn't even get up. And now I know, for my first time it was rough. He didn't do it at all nice. He went straight to two fingers and putting a lot of impact into it. He did no teasing or any getting my a little wet. I kept saying 'no' and crying as he was doing it. At one point he came up and he was pretty hard. He almost put his penis in, and I tensed up and started balling no. I squeezed my legs and everything. All he did was flipped me over and gave me anal. I still said no and with his body ontop of me i had no chance to get away. It was over. This happened repeatedly. He was satisfied with the anal he no longer tried to vagina. But he constantly fingered me and make me give him a blow job.
At one point he did get the gun back out. When I refused to get in the bed. I was wearing just my underwear and bra. He wore his boxers. I was sitting on the floor trying to stand my ground-or sit my ground. He put the gun to his head and was making notes that everyone was going to come after me if he killed himself and that he was going to make sure I got killed a slow painful death after he was gone. I fake cried, in a way I wanted him to pull the trigger.
The reason why I am typing o you though, is now, I want to talk to him. I broke all ties with him in December. I blocked his calls and texts and even Facebook. But, now that I just got out of another relationship that ended bad, and i started drinking, I want to see if he's alright. Maybe invite him to a coffee shop. I know this might seem bad but, I really want to see him.
By the way, I'm not sure if I posted this in the correct place. I'm hoping I did.