Sour Relations

Jason Dean Bright wasn't Mr. Right, to say the least. He was several years older than me and had a completely different concept of love. We dated for two years on and off without any problems. Then it happened.

My boyfriend Jason and I were celebrating my birthday three says early, on November 18, 1992. It was the night, withoiut a doubt, that I went through the most unpleasant and terrifying experience of my life. Jason wanted to stop by a friend's house before we went out to eat dinner. We parked on the side of the road in front of the house. Loud music burst through the front-room windows. Clearly, Jason had neglected to tell me that we were going to a party. I turned to question him about why we were there. As we reached the porch, he stopped my words with a kiss. "I promise we will be outta here in five minutes," he said, opening the door. I reached out to grab his jacket, but he had already slipped through the crack.

I wandered around the house, for a few minutes, saying hello to the people I had met before. I spotted Jason talking to his brother, Anthony, and approached them. I could tell by the look of shock on Tony's face that I had interrupted a deep conversation. I said, "Sorry, to interrupt." Then I glanced at Jason and said, "Honey, I'll wait out in the car for you. Okay?" he stared at me as if my suggestion was unacceptable. Then he placed his arm around me.

"No, not at all. You got here just in time," Jason stated. By the smell of his breath, he had been drinking-which would've been okay, except he was a recovering alcoholic. Tony just stood there in an awkward silence. I thought about how much Jason could've possible consumed in the amount of time that we had been there. Tony held up eight fingers behind Jason's back to fill me in. Jason saw the confused and disgusted look on my face. He quickly escorted me up the stairs, and ushered me into the first bedroom on the right.

I knew that we were going to fight. We started to disagree about him drinking. It soon escalated to an argument about ow nothing he does is ever good enough for me. Instantly, the color in his eyes changed from light brown to coal black. I wanted to leave, but he blocked the doorway. He began kissing me on my neck. "Come on, sweetheart, I don't want to fight. I love you!"

"Don't start! I want to leave...." I paused and yelled at the top of my lungs, "NOW!"

"Well, we don't always get what we want. We get what we deserve." Jason pushed me, and I landed on the bed. In a gruff voice he explained, "You're not leaving here until I make you happy." I made a dash for the door. He grabbed the back of my dress, pulling me to him like a dog on a leash. The dress landed in a heap around my ankles. I picked it up, staring past his eyes and into his soul. I was only a puppet at his mercy. He handed me his shirt, "Cover yourself. You look pathetic." I put his shirt on.

Jason tightly snatched my wrists. He pushed me back onto the bed. I was lying down this time. Jason smashed my head against the wall. Then, he slammed his body against mine with such force that he penetrated me, through my underwear. I tried to see him, but my eyes would not open. my body had shut down. The pain between my legs was unbearable. I could feel the blood oozing from my body. There was no oppurtunity for escape. There was no chance for survival. My screams were drowned out by the music playing downstairs. No one was coming to save me.

I swung at Jason's face. It felt as hard as steel. And, he didn't even blink. There was no telling what would happen next. Somehow, I lifted this 235 pound man off me. I was running for what seemed like hours, wearing only his silk shirt. Eventually the events of the evening caght up with me. I became aware of my surroundings and began to think. What just happened? It must've been someone else. That certainly wasn't anybody that I knew. I had been with Jason for two years. Who would've thought that he would violate me? No, no it didn't happen. We were in love, weren't we? How could he do this to me? To us?

Jason had several charminmg qualities to reel me in and enough rage within himself to keep me scared of leaving. Which is why after this occurence, I fled from his clutches only to return. And the relationship went downhill from there. Fearing for my life became a normal everyday thing, as that evening became night after night of encounters with this man.

Towards the end of our four years "together" he had moved to Indianapolis. I took this move as a way out, but he didn't stop torturing me. He would come to visit and by the time he left I would be black and blue from head to toe. It seemed like Jason would throw me through doors, into walls, and coffee tables for sport. I was forced to lie about how I got the bruises. Jason's mother, Gina, showed me the mark. That's what she called it when you applied make-up to cover the bruises. She hated when he hit me, but she was powerless against him.

He wrote me, telling me that he was coming to get me. I know that he thought he was my prince in shining armor, but all that I could see in him was my worst nightmare. He was drunk before he ever left the city. Naturally, he had an accident from driving under the influence. Jason was laid up in a hospital bed, bleeding internally for three days as a John Doe.

Now here I was at his deathbed in indianapolis with his cousin, Valorie. Him begging for me to help him escape. (The doctor's were trying to kill him, you know?) The only reason that I was there at all, was to watch him die for everything he's done to me and everyone else. It wasn't enough to hear the news of his death. I had to witness it for myself. I wanted to see it. To know that he wouldn't cause anyone else the kind of pain he brought me, made all the difference. He started apologizing for what he did with his life. Jason knew he was dying and there was nothing that could prevent it now. He started asking for the one thing that I wouldn't give him..... forgiveness. He died on February 7, 1995 trying to make amends.

To this day I still have nightmares of the horrible feats that I was forced to endure. The punishments that I had to follow through with. The years of pushing me. I almost went crazy. Yet those church going people tell me that I must forgive him, or I won't be forgiven by God. Well this is my response to that..... God better forgive me for my sins, because I have forgiven God for allowing these things to happen. But if Jason went to heaven, then I may have to change my ways. I absolutely refuse to spend eternity with him, after all that he has done to me. I don't see how the Lord could ask that of me.

I've learned a great deal from this traumatic experience. It took something so devastating and life threatening for me to see how naive I was. Now I am extremely careful when judging character. I refuse to go through that ever again. I consider myself lucky to have made it out alive.

Fiesty
1998