Here's the thing about love, love hurts. Love is the most painful experience I have ever lived. I personally would never be able to love. No, not that, I would never allow myself to love. This is not because of some little innocent boo-hoo break-up that occurred with my boyfriend, no this was real. This was because the love of my life, who didn't care about me at all as I found out, attempted to rape me and then proceeded to beat me to a bloody pulp. Unconsciously he might have even killed me. But he didn't. Because I was strong. I had only the brief-est moment when he turned his back to me and I could kick him in the groin. I used the moment when he doubled over in pain to jump to my feet an run. And boy did I run.

It was a dark room but there was a white door that seemed to glow in the black surrounding it. The glow was my saving grace, otherwise I would've been buried next to my mother in the Evergreen Cemetery. Just outside the door was a door. And Another door. They all had numbers. This was the moment I realized we were in the dingy motel across the street from his house. I attempt to scream only to be muffled by a cotton swatch I didn't even know that was in my mouth. I use my long legs to propel me toward the elevator as I use my broken fingernails to fumble with the cotton. As I push the door open and start down the stairs, my knees buckle and practically tumble the rest of the way down. As I reach the lobby, I fall into the strong arms of a stranger. I look up to apologize profusely and my bloody hazel eyes meet the perfect cobalt blues of the blonde stranger. I stand there speechless until I realize that he would be coming any second to continue his torture. I scramble out of the stranger's arms and sprint as fast as humanly possible out of the lobby. Within a couple blocks, I finally reach a public street and I can slow down. I get funny looks as I wander down the streets all battered, but nobody asks if I'm okay. I walk leisurely as if I walk down Main Street battered and quickly arrive at my apartment building above Chang's Chinese. I practically crawl up the stairs and collapse on my couch. I pass out as my body begins to register the pain. My dreams are haunted by the blue eyes of the stranger. And even though I feel my heart flutter at the sight, I remember the events of the rest of the day. I vowed to myself at that moment that I would never fall for the fa├žade put on by guys and fall in love. Ever again.