People say everything happens for a reason. If that is true, what is the reason for going through an abusive relationship? All in the name of love? I sit in this bed with my teddy bear, Mr. Brody Esquire Teddyskins. This bed used to be my comfort, my solace, along with writing. But now it’s my prison confining me and reminding me of the horrid events that took place on these Betty Boop sheets. Brody never leaves this bed; he is the protector of this fortress. He has kept the monsters away from this bed ever since I was eight. Well, all monsters except one- my ex fiancé Eduardo. In his defense Eduardo fooled all of us; he was a monster sent from the pits of hell disguised as one of the most beautiful guardian angels from the highest corners of heaven. Brody and I never saw the danger coming. Eduardo was my first love. Never had I had someone hold me the way he did, kiss me the way he did, make me feel loved and wanted. I spent my dating years trying to find someone who would “claim” me. Someone who would want to yell from the top of their lungs that Adrienne Marie Alverio was their girlfriend. I had finally found it in him. I spent my dating years alone, in relationships where I was always abused verbally, emotionally, and mentally. He seemed to be the end of all the pain and suffering. He did turn out to be the end of the abuse but just the beginning of the suffering.The honeymoon stage did not last long. Most of our relationship was amazing. Brody can vouch for that. I would come home every night to that bed and hug him and tell him all about what Eduardo said and did that specific day. Not to mention the night Eduardo and I got engaged; that night I didn’t let Brody sleep a wink. I kept him up talking about wedding dresses and our future together. He didn’t seem as excited about the engagement as me and my new fiancé were. The engagement seemed to open the door for Eduardo to show his true colors. I would lay Brody on the corner of the bed next to my pillow. During those last two weeks of the engagement, I laid Brody against the wall because I did not want him to see the tears strolling down my face as I endured the sexual abuse from my so called “love of my life.” Brody could still hear my silent whimpers of pain at night when I hugged him tight to go to sleep. He was all I had to feel somewhat safe anymore. I would cry to Brody ask him, “Why does he hurt me if he loves me so much? What do I do to make him so angry?” Sometimes I would feel so alone I could feel Brody hug me back as if to say, “You have me.” In the course of two weeks of our engagement my fiancé raped me three times, all three times on those Betty Boop sheets in front of Brody. All I had to take my mind away from what was happening to my body were those posters on my walls. I would stare at those posters of The Breakfast Club, Dirty Dancing, and Titanic. I would sit there and remember scenes from the movies, pretending I was watching them all over again. It all finally ended with me in a hospital room with countless cops questioning me. I spent two weeks confined to that hospital bed, I never felt so alone. I had my older sister by my side all that time, letting me cry in her arms. But those nights all alone in that bed, staring at the uneven skin tones of my ring finger, listening to our song, was more than I could bear alone. Without Brody I did nothing but question why did Eduardo do what he did to me, why did I feel like it was all my fault, and most importantly why was I still so scared of him? These questions still cross my mind; that same fear is still there. I guess I will never really have the answers I search for. I have accomplished great things since them: won a writing scholarship, graduated from high school, even learned how to walk again. Maybe in time I will understand what I was meant to learn from all this? I’ve been Adrienne’s best friend since she was eight years old. Since the first time she hugged me and told me, “I’m going to call you Brody Teddyskins (the Esquire came later). I’ve been on these Betty Boop sheets protecting her from any monster that came our way. Any monster she invented in her mind and was convinced was going to take her way, I was right there to scare them away. I’ve seen this little girl grow up and go through more pain than any little girl should. I could see in her eyes the only thing she ever wanted from this big world was unconditional love. From the way she would hug me at night I knew all she would ever want was someone to hug her back the way she needed.When Eduardo came into the picture, I prayed he was different from the other guys that broke her heart. I sat through enough crying with her; she didn’t need that anymore. He was amazing to her – in the beginning. They sat on this bedroom floor for hours, laughing and playing video games. He helped her with her homework and calmed her down when she had her panic attacks. In retrospect, he was doing everything right, but there was still something I did not trust about him. I couldn’t tell Adrienne that because she was so head-over-heels she wasn’t going to listen to me anymore. She wasn’t eight anymore; she was seventeen and did not need a Teddy anymore. At first, Eduardo did small things I didn’t like, such as wanting her to focus on him rather than her schoolwork, or the awful things he would say about her parents when she would argue with them. He would point out flaws in her rather than remind her that she is one of the most beautiful people in this world. When she would be in the shower, I would see him looking in her drawers, her closet, even her phone. Where was the trust? If only I was big enough to kick him out, I would have. He even once picked me up, looked me in the eyes, and said, “You are the first thing I’ll get rid of when we move in together.” She never knew because I never told her. That night they got engaged she came home, hugged me tight, and was so happy. I tried to be happy for her, but knew from what he had told me that the beginning of them meant the end of us. I had to cherish what little time I had left with my best friend.Those last two weeks of their relationship was more than I could bear to watch. The stress of always being sick and weak had gotten to her. Her liver was acting up again, but this time it claimed her ability to walk. Or so she thought. To this day she never noticed that she stopped walking after the first time he abused her. She laid in this bed with me every day and night, crying, asking me if she would ever walk again. He would come every day at around noon to take care of her, feed her, help her to the bathroom, even watch her sleep (which I personally thought was a little creepy). She would be in and out of consciousness from how weak she was. At night I would be by her side hugging her, but crying myself because I couldn’t protect her from this monster. She would lay me against the wall those last couple nights when he would get into that bed. I already knew what that meant, and so did she. As I starred at that light blue wall, I could hear her silent whispers of “Please No.” It infuriated me I wished so badly that I could attack him. This monster was too big for me, and I felt like I had failed her. At night when he would leave, she would struggle to turn herself over on her side and bring me back to her. She would hold me so tight to cry. I will never forget those words, “Why does he hurt me if he loves me so much? What do I do that makes him so angry?” It broke my small, stuffed heart. I tried to tell her that she did nothing; he was just the boogie man incarnate. But of course she couldn’t hear me because I was just a teddy bear. I just hugged her back with everything I had to show her I was still here for her. When they took her to that hospital, she didn’t come back to me for two weeks. I knew she needed me. She came back with a dead look in her eyes. She has never been the same. She had to go through the police questioning alone. She didn’t sleep a wink without me. I would lay on these forever-tainted sheets missing my best friend. The smile may have been sown on my face, but there wasn’t one night that I would not cry on this bed, feeling her pain, aching to make it better. I know she still wonders why she had to go through it all. She doesn’t ask me anymore. She stays quiet, mostly. She has done amazing things since, like give a scholarship-winning speech to a crowd of hour hundred people. She slowly has gotten her smile back. Maybe this is one of those mysteries that are better left unresolved. I can never fully heal her pain, but I can protect her and her future kids from any other monsters.
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