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Chapter 1, Wendell (Caution, viewer discretion)

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Raven Wolf

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Reader discretion advised. Language, vilolence, sexual situations. Rated R.

In 1996, the year Millennium first started, I was in a situation that prevented me from being in the right frame of mind to watch it. I met a man named Wendell Hamilton. We went out a couple of times, but I didn't think it was going anywhere. Now... remember at this time, I was only 22 almost 23. I had not dated a lot. My home situation was a source of much stress, and I was emotionaly not very strong. Wendell & I had been dating only about a month, when one day he wanted to go in a pawn shop "Just for the hell of it." I was enjoying talking to the parrot at the front of the store, but he called me over to look at the rings. "Maybe you'll see something you like...." Well, things in pawn shops are sometimes pretty cheep, so I started looking at the silver rings to see if I liked anything there, since he was hinting he wanted to get me something. Well, within a few minutes, he guided me over to the gold rings.... specificaly the engagement rings. "Well, it's nice to know what the girl you're dating likes and what her size is...." I thought, Ok...he's just being a tad romantic, and we're just windowshopping, so it doesn't matter. He just wants to "get to know me", by seeing what I like. No big deal. Well, he pointed out one and I said it wasn't my size. I have small fingers. So, he went to the ones that were more my size and pointed a few out. I said they were nice, but not my style. Remember now... I thought we were just looking to be looking.... because we had nothing better to do. He asked the guy behind the counter to take out one of the ones that fit me, and asked me to try it on, along with the wedding band that went with it. I did so, and it fit. A tad loosely, but it fit. He asked "Do you like that one?" I said "Yes, it's nice." and took it back off. Before I knew what was happening, he got out his wallet, and bought the wedding set. I started to ask what the hell he was doing, but I didn't want to embarass him, and I was too shy to want to make a scene in front of everyone in the store. I pulled at his arm to get his attention, but he ignored me. I was still in shock as we walked out of the store. He opened the car door for me....I got in, and then was more stunned as he got down on one knee and asked me to marry him! I realize now I was "Hijacked" into an engagment with him.

In the months that followed, Wendell kept pressuring me to set a wedding date. He had hardly any money. I had no job. I kept telling him we needed to be a bit more financially stable, because I didn't want to spend my entire life in a trailer park. Sometimes things between us were ok, but I began to realize this man had an explosive temper. Sex between us was difficult, at best. Now, I know this sounds bad, but I can't remember if I ever had sex with anyone before the car wreck in 1992, so to me, Wendell was my first. He wanted to do it every single time we were together, but, after the first few times, any interest I ever had in sex began to vanish. He was rough, pushy, and kinkey (NOT in a good way!)

(here's where I advise anyone who doesn't want to read about such things to just go on and read something else. things get vulgar from here on out.)

Over the months, Wendell began to change my whole personality. He changed my whole vocabulary. Example - I was not allowed to ever say someone "Made me mad", or "Made me feel bad" or *Made Me* ANYTHING! I was the one who chose to feel that way. He insisted I be more confident and outgoing....INSISTED.... but when I said something that I had decided and showed any confidence with him, he crushed it instantly. He kept pushing me to decide what I wanted to do for a career, and I finally said "I want to be a paranormal investigator ." Well, THAT was a mistake, because he said HE planned to be a Methodist preacher (for those that don't know, it's a christian denomination, like Baptist) and this was NOT something that a "Preacher's wife" should be doing.

The irony of that statement will show itself even more later...

Meanwhile, he had been abusing not only verbally (I think he either yelled at me or cut me down at least once a day) but also sexualy. You see, I suffered a lot of nerve damage in that car wreck in 1992, and, as a result (*blush* :embarassed: ) I have very little feeling over many parts of my body. As you can imagine, it makes sex difficult. Wendell would be trying to "get me going" with his hand... and it wouldn't really be getting me anywhere. Most of the time I could fake it, but not always... And when he'd get frustrated, he'd start doing it harder, and hurting me.... One time in particular (explicit part), he had his hand in me... it wasn't working, and he got VERY angry. He actually raised my body off the ground, using the fingers that were in me, and slammed me against the floor. I burst into tears, and he screamed at me to shut up, which, of course, just made me cry more.

Sometimes, during the almost 2 years that this went on, I'd come out of the state of shock I was in and have one or two ideas of how to deal with this.... You see, most people would ask "Why didn't you just break off the relationship?" Well, I tried... but every time I did, he would state (In his LOUD voice) "I do not accept that. We've made a commitment to each other. We've had sex, so in God's eyes, we are already married. It would be a sin to break that off now." Well, I started to try things to get him to not want to be with me. I started to gain weight, thinking if I was overweight, he wouldn't want to have sex with me. (By the way, he was so violent when he f**ked me that I would bleed like I had my period. I say "f**ked", because that's the only word for what he did.) I tried gaining weight... I even tried to get rid of him by starting to smoke ciggarettes! He had told me he had asthma and would break up with me if I ever started to smoke... so I did, but he responded by buying me cigs! Also, Mister "I'm going to be a preacher./We are one under God. You must be a good example of a Preacher's wife" started to spiral out of control with his sexual addiction and perversion. I kept telling him I did not want to "do it" with him, but he would manipulate me with outbursts of anger, lies of how he was trying to change, etc.... and finally end up raping me anally, forcing me to perform orally on him, etc. In the last few months I was with him... I had been telling him more and more that I couldn't live like this.... that if he was so sure I was going to hell by breaking our "vows" (because he thought if we'd had sex, we were married in the eyes of God), that I just didn't care, because I was already IN hell. He kept manipulating me by saying he was trying to become a better person, and he needed me to help him and teach him how to be better. There was also a kitten there that I had gotten, but that he refused to let me take home, since he knew if I got her, I would probably never come back. He threatened to hurt her, and when I would come to see her, he wouldn't let me see her.

(I did finally get her, as well as her mother)

It finally took me threatening to call the police on him to get my cat back, and in 1998, after months of not paying his bills (he had the money, he was just a lazy, irresponsible ass)... and after I finally got my car back from him that he'd been using.... I told him to go back to hell. Even then, for months, he continued to show up at my house and call me at all hours... saying he'd changed, bla bla bla....

I have not been the same since then. To this day, I hesitate before I say something "Made me" angry, sad, happy, ANYTHING. Also, as sweet as Terry is, I still hesitate before making a decision about ANYTHING. From what to cook for dinner, to what clothes to put on....ANYTHING. (this part gets rather icky, be warned) I cannot let myself hear the sound of a cat or a dog, licking themselves (as we all know cats like to take "baths" this way all the time). It brings back the feeling and memory of some of the things Wendell would do to me with HIS mouth, just before hurting me and humiliating me again. (oh, yeah, I was not allowed to say something humiliated me either) It took MANY years before I could allow myself to be touched again. For a long time, I would jump like I'd been hit.

The last nasty thing I'll bring up that Wendell did, which really made his declairation that he wanted to be a Christian Preacher even MORE ironic and insane..., was involving someone "under age" in his sick sexual fantasy. His uncle had a girlfriend who was divorced with 2 teenage sons. One of them was 16 years old. Well, I was so traumatized by more than a year in this relationship, (it was mid 1998 by now) that when I met this young guy, and seeing how nice and shy and polite he was to me, we became friends. Also, I knew that the guy had a crush on me, but I didn't dare tell Wendell, fearing he'd hurt the kid. Imagine my shock when he told ME he'd figured out that this teenager had a "thing" for me. He then asked me how I'd feel about a 3-some. I responded, saying "That's kind of illegal you know. He'd have to be 2 years older.... And I can't believe you'd think I want to do something like that." Needless to say... Wendell always got his way.... and he got this young man to come over to where Wendell lived. The guy was as intimidated by Wendell as I was.... And when he finally left us alone for a while (to get "started") I asked him if he wanted to go through with this... (he was a virgin) He finally got the nerve to say he'd been "in love" with me for months, and, though he'd dreamed of being with me, he felt "weird" about doing it this way. I kissed him and said he didn't have to do anything he didn't want to do.... I think This was the event that gave me the courage to finally break free. You see... for the year and a half (almost 2 years) that he'd been abusing me, he'd also kept telling me (when I'd try to break up with him) that no other man would ever have me. Since, by then, I'd gained a lot of weight, I'd believed him. But, hearing this good looking, sweet young 16 year old tell me he loved me, and that I was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen...... THAT gave me the courage to end the cycle of abuse... both for myself, and for this young boy's future.

I want all this weight, and all these bad memories, and all this pain to go away.... and finally be free. I just don't know how.

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Erin, the story you told was so awful that I wanted to throw up and my heart started pounding like mad. I don't feel sick because of the language but because of the pure psychopath you described. I'm so glad you got rid of him, and I hope you'll some day, somehow also manage to let go of those horrible memories. I don't know what else to say, except that my thoughts are with you.

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Wow... Thank you. I know I shouldn't be "so dark".... this is just shit I've needed to get out for a long time. Like snake poison or something.

Maybe this is why I had such a hard time watching Millennium when it was first running. With what was going on... the subject matter of the show just became too real.

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Wendell, Part 2

For all of those reading this, I'm posting this not just for my own sake (to get it out in the open) but also for the sake of others. If you ever are in a relationship... be it with a husband, a wife, a lover, or even a co-worker, who you feel is controlling you and changing who you are, and who shows these signs of possesiveness, control, and violence.... RUN. RUN LIKE HELL.

As I stated before, Wendell had a nack for manipulation of others. His use of both religious and psychological retoric was instrumental in allowing him to get his way. There's nothing more dangerous than a man, with a temper, and high intelligence. I was a perfect choice for him. Just smart enough to make for a challange, but with enough problems from the car wreck for him to use as tools to make me feel like a fool. (see, I winced at the phraise "make me feel". it's like being brainwashed.) I have problems with things like memory, spelling, and math due to the car wreck, and so he continued to tell me how stupid I was. His constant flow of psychobabal and religious overtures began to slowly weigh me down. Everything that had ever gone wrong in my life was somehow MY fault, because I ALLOWED it to happen, yet when I stood up against him, he screamed like an army seargent. He had 2 different dogs in the time I knew him, as well as the mama cat which now lives with my mother (she's insane as well). 1st, he had a beagle with the cat. "Jake" was the beagle, and "Alanas" is the cat. He had been living with his uncle (that's how he knew the uncles girlfriend and how we met her teenage son.) but his uncle was a jackass as well, and they faught all the time, so Wendell decided to move out. He demanded that I take in his dog and the cat. Meanwhile, I had my 2 Shelties, "Maggie" and "Cody", which I'd been trying to breed. His Beagle was NOT fixed, and I said I didn't know how that would work, because I'd end up having half beagle, half Sheltie puppies (which sounds cute, but I didn't have the money to deal with mixed breed puppies. I was trying to start breeding show dogs) He said if I did not take them, he'd take them to the pound. Well, that horrified me, because when someone "dumps" a pet at the pound, they are put to death soon after. I got into a HUGE fight with my mother, as I struggled to be able to take them in, and finally called Wendell and said "Ok, bring them here." We set a time & everything. I waited... a bit excited, because I really loved that Beagle and that cat. He did not show up. I waited, and waited.... and finally called him. I took care of it. Was all he'd say. He would not tell me where they were, just that it was "taken care of". I went nuts. Screaming & crying over the phone, demanding to know where they were.... and all he would say was "Well, you didn't seem to be ready to take them, so I made other arrangements." It took a long time for him to finally admit that he'd given them to a woman he worked with.... and I went there to see how they were. She was a sweet lady, and I did feel better. She even said "When Alanas has her kittens, you can have one if you like... and if Wendell gets set in a place where he can have a cat, he can also take Alanas back." But, she was quite taken with Jake, and I knew he was better off with her than with Wendell, who, yes, used to beat him regularly. The Kitten that I was promised was the one I said in the last post that he used as a tool to keep me coming back. It's been many years and she's passed on now, but I'm glad to say that she had many years with me. finally free of that psychopath, and her mother is still alive. (though Wendell's abuse drove her crazy.)

Besides animals, he also liked to abuse cars. My parents had a spare (old) Voltswagon Golf, which they let me drive only once or twice (mom's overprotectiveness is a WHOLE other story) and, when Wendell's car was vandalized in a church parking lot next door to my home after it had broken down, we let him borrow the VW. If cars can carry the energy of violent acts that happened in them, the way some houses do, this car should have a bullet put through it.

I don't remember exactly what was said, since this event happened almost exactly 10 years ago, but we were driving back to his house, and he got angry about me not making a decision about something... We started to argue with him driving, and he was all over the road. I started saying "Let me out! Just pull over and let me out! I'll f***ing WALK home if I have to!" (he was an hours drive from my home) and he flew into a rage and started to pound the inside of the car with his fist. There had been a tiny little crack from where a rock had hit the windsheild months before, but he went so crazy punching the inside of the car that the crack grew across the windsheild, he broke the rear-view mirror off, and broke the horn somehow from punching the stearing wheel. I went into a state of shock. I was no longer afraid... Just "checked out" and not taking anything in.

Another time, (before this) I was driving (and I'm rather nervous driving cars, due to my own accident) and we started to get onto an entrance ramp onto Interstate I 85. Both lanes were filled with cars, and it was hard to see how I could merge into them.... as it was almost bumper to bumper traffic. Well, since he'd been teaching me "aggresive driving skills", he started to yell GO! I said "There's nowhere TO go!" And he just kept bitching and yelling GO GO GO! Untill I put the gas pedel to the floor and went from almost sitting still to over 100 miles an hour! I was so angry I didn't care. He started to yell for me to slow down and I said "You wanted me to go.... Let's see what this car can do." After we hit 120 I started to slow down, since weaving in and out of traffic was getting more difficult.

You'd think he would have learned to Back Off when it came to my driving after that, but, alas... No. There was another time I was driving with him and was waiting to turn left into a gas station, with lots of cars coming from the other direction. He started bitching that if I waited on every one of them, we'd be there all day. This went on for a couple of minutes, with him cussing at me and putting me down, when I could see clearly that it was NOT the right time to turn in front of someone, and I finally snapped, turning across in front of someone, gassing the car much harder than I should have, while the oncoming car blew its horn at me, and I came to a screaching halt in the parking lot. "You wanted me to go. I went." At least if that car had hit us, it would have gotten Wendell first!

I think those are most of the highlights of my 2 year nightmare.

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