RP House Wife of an Assassin

{This is an old little journal entry from after I broke up with an 'abusive' ex in my role playing days which I originally had in the form of a poem and fixed it into a little short the best I could. Please enjoy! WARNING: Contains some fiction forms of abuse.}

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He was broken. Our love was so real to me even though he didn't feel it the way I thought he did. The red flags were everywhere but not a single one flashed. He opened up to me and I didn't even know him. I was just a little girl in this role playing universe that he was sharing all of his problems with, little did I know, I was just being preyed on. We fell so hard in love, or at least I did. We were married, we had a son, and we made love every night, How was I to know there was another...and her...and yet again another. I started to assume it of him but he'd always find some way to convince me wrong.

Soon the council called him away and I was left to tend the baby for a year while he was at war. When he returned he was different, our son was all he cared about now. He stayed long enough to play with him and then me before resting up and heading back out on us.

It was three years this time before he returned. Our son's powers had come in and I trained him the best I could, but I didn't know what I was doing. This time he ignored our son and we went straight to the bedroom. I began to undress him but he stopped me and threw me into the wall with my throat in his hand, it hurt but I liked this new side...not for long. The look in his brown eyes changed because they weren't his. He was Dusk not my Isaiah... I started to scream but quickly shut up knowing there was no help for me but myself. My clothes were ripped off and I fought as hard as I could but I was just a mortal against a demon. He called upon his demon friends and let them have their way with me... I'd stopped fighting. When they were done they just left me hanging there for my son to find me and let me down. He was too young to understand what had happened, he thought mommy had just been playing a game and got stuck. I took him in my arms and held him close...thank god they didn't find him. He got ready for bed and I let him sleep with me that night.

When I woke up he wasn't there. Oh god they took him I panicked and ran down stairs but there he was playing with his father...this time it WAS my husband. I ran to him with the passionate of kisses but he knew something was off so he took me upstairs to make me spill it but I refused to talk. He assumed I'd had sex with another man but I hadn't the way he thought. In his anger he packed his bags but I ran after him and told him everything... He was livid. His aura rose and I helped calm him, but he left anyway. I found his ring on my pillow that night, I thought he'd left us but I didn't know where he'd really gone until she came.

I will never forget the lady in gold... she came to my bedroom with a sword to my lips promising me pleasures. I kicked her off and fought her best I could. I thought she'd given up but then my Isaiah was home yet again. In their exchange of words I learned that he'd gone to kill Dusk... her lover. He somehow convinced her to leave. I'll never understand if it was her intentions all along; to threaten us then leave, only to return again with a vengeance.

Isaiah had become obsessed with training our boy and I didn't mind: he needed to know how to protect himself. Soon we forgot about the council, Dusk, the Lady in Gold, and the war. We were finally a family again. One day after picking our son up from school I asked him if he was excited to go home and finish his training. Both fell silent, and naturally I worried. He spoke first telling me, "Daddy wants me to be normal." I have never slammed on the brakes so hard in my life. Isaiah began to explain to me that it was unfair that we'd been put in danger because of his background. He then told me that he'd basically given the council the finger and he wouldn't be leaving us again. I was relieved and carried on home. That evening went from the happiest day in my life to the beginning of my hell.

We played games, went swimming in our backyard, grilled out, watched some movies and put the little one to bed. Isaiah and I decided to go back out for a swim but he seemed... hesitant of everything now. He opened up to me about his past and how he was terrified he'd hurt me like everyone else but I pleaded that none of that mattered to me and that it was a little too late for him to be thinking like that. By that I meant the life we had; our marriage, our son, the fact that I knew too much already, and our daughter... I hadn't told him about her. He made shapes with the water through his elemental skill ending with a finale of butterflies. He then pulled me into the water, got down on one knee and asked me to be legally his again, but before I could accept he fell on the other knee as well. It was her. That retched woman had stabbed him but I didn't run, I pulled him out of the water and patched him up before kicking her ass. In my angered state I did indeed open the can on her. She soon gave up and notified him that he'd been threatened by the council, claiming we'd all be killed if he didn't come back to war so I had to let him go. He immediately packed his things and left still wounded. She entered our home with a smirk telling me, "Justice is now done." I thought she'd meant my husband but next thing I knew the house was up in flames. I tried to run to my son's room but she dragged me outside and held me there until there was nothing left of our home, or my boy, then without a word, she left throwing me among the ruble. I'd fallen on my stomach and the baby hadn't survived.

I stayed with my sister until I got back on my feet enough to buy a new house and as we were bringing in the last boxes my husband returned. He thought I was leaving him and that I was stealing his son away from him. I didn't hold back for even a second before telling him what had happened. He broke down and began to drink. Every evening was the same; I'd help him get drunk, carry him upstairs, and let him have his fun with me before he passed out.

Soon he became a mean drunk. He'd call me names, throw me around, and accuse me of sleeping around with anyone he could think of at the time. I'd caught him cheating three or four times but never said a word until the end. One day I'd had enough. I let him know of all the dirty secrets I'd uncovered about him: his whores, jail time, being in a gang. But that didn't stop him from hitting me one last time. I packed my essentials and started loading up my truck. When I came in the house for my last bag I turned to him expressing how he'd preyed on me for all of these years never really caring for me or his family. I told him about the miscarriage of the daughter he never knew of. And hit him in the stomach hard that the death of his beloved son wouldn't have happened if he'd stayed home with us in the first place and just hid out like I wanted.

I still get an occasional phone call from the bastard... and truthfully I sometimes miss the abuse he put me through. I took him back a few times after but wound up blocking all contact from him for good. Now I am stronger in the mind but still remain weak and afraid in my heart.