My name is Sam Hunter.

I am here and there, and everywhere.

I am a victim.

I did it, I finally escaped your wrath. You came at me with a knife and I couldn't bear it any longer, I called the police. And you stared, dumbfounded, your eyes glowing in the dark.

'B*tch!' you screamed.

My shirt was torn off by your calloused hands but before you could do a thing, the police pounded on the door. A bang erupted and officers flooded into the living room. I stared in shock, holding my shirt tightly around me. It was only when an officer put her hand on my shoulder that I realized I was finally safe. I was actually safe, for the first time in years.

I cried into my hands, I thought that I had overreacted. All my fault, it's all my fault. The mantra repeated itself inside my head. I loved you, or at least I had spent so much time convincing myself that our love was real.

I watched you feed lie after lie into the hands of the police.

'She fell off the stairs.'

'She hurt herself.'

'I would never, she's my wife!'

But I knew the truth, you beat me. I wasn't going to press any charges. truth is you are- were the love of my life, and I don't want to see you behind bars. Not now, not ever.

I cannot explain the emotions that swarm my mind at the moment. I think it's mostly shock, that I'm finally free, but I have to go to therapy. They think something is wrong with me, emotionally. And I- I think it's true. As for you, I hope you're doing well wherever you may be. I hope you're getting treatment for your anger issues.

My therapist is a woman, I requested a woman myself. I wasn't ready to be with a man again, it just hurt too much. She spoke quietly and I think she's the only one to ever truly listen. She tells me to let all the anger out, all of the emotions, in fact. I can scream and cry, I can even punch the pillow resting next to me on the couch.

My tears are red; I cried blood.

I spent my time curled up on the couch while something inside of me ripped. I was in constant pain, my belly getting larger by the day. It never occurred to me that I was pregnant. Would you still have beaten me if you had known? My heart tells me that even you could never be that cruel.

Would you have hurt our child? Never mind, I can't think about that anymore. You're gone and I'm safe. That's that, and that's how it will always be. But you're not imprisoned, oh how stupid am I? You're not rotting behind a set of bars, you're walking free in the world. You could come back to haunt me.

Jason, if you read this, which I know you never will, please don't come back. Please leave me alone. This baby of ours- it's mine and yours, but I can't allow myself to think of that right now.

My name is Sam Hunter.

I am here and there, and everywhere.

I am a victim.