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worked sporadically at odd and end jobs, and then one day he met a man that introduced him to a new business..... dealing drugs. This business involved less physical work, which was much more to his liking, and promised very lucrative profits.

I was very much against this, and voiced my opinion to Tommy as such. Drugs were not new to me, and Tommy and I had did our share of smoking weed, dropping acid, and popping a few pills, but dealing drugs for a living was not something I wanted to do. We argued, and I told him I would not have any part of it. The argument heated up and I stood my ground against him. He grabbed me by the arms and shoved me backwards into the bedroom wall, then held me there, crushing me against it, and yelling in my face. He informed me at that time, that I was HIS wife, which meant I was HIS property, and I WOULD do what HE told me. He let me go, and as I slid down the wall to the floor, breathless and crying, I heard the front door slam loudly as he left.

Not knowing what to do next, and having no idea of the repercussions of what I was about to set into motion, I waited for him to come home. I was determine to stand my ground on this issue, and told him so the minute he walked in the door. As soon as I got the words out of my mouth the look in his eyes told me I had made the wrong decision. He back handed me hard in the face and sent me reeling across the living room. Before I could recover, he hit me again and blood started to pour from my nose and lips. I ran at him with my fist flying, but my five foot, four inch, one hundred and forty pound frame was no match for his six foot, three inch, two hundred pounds of muscle and fury. He easily over powered my defense by knocking me to my knees with one solid blow to the side of my head, and then kicking me the rest of the way to the floor. I laid there curled in a ball, bleeding and begging him to stop... I felt the vibrations of his foot steps on the floor as he walked out, and slammed the door again.

I didn't move from the floor for a long while. I could feel my mouth burning and my eyes starting to swell shut. I got up slowly, went to the bathroom and took a long hot shower watching my blood as it disappeared down the drain. The awful bruising I saw on my face in the mirror was minor damage compared to the suffering in my heart.

I had to call into work the next few days. Tommy was in and out frequently, and spoke to me very little. I stayed out of his way, and watched my Ps and Qs. The

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