“And love is evil, spell it backwards, I’ll show ya.”
-Eminem
I have a story to tell you – it’s the oldest story in the book. You have probably heard it before. It’s about evil, and how it came into the world.
Her name was Lauren, and everything about her was bright and beautiful. She had an easygoing nature and energy about her that left everyone who came into contact with her ensconced in light, uplifted. Even him, at first.
His name was Caleb, and they met at a mixer event in her first year of university. She was far away from home for the very first time, and though she loved her parents and missed her friends, she was thrilled by all the possibility and adventure that lay in store for her in this completely new place. She had already made many new friends, but everyone else dimmed into the background in comparison. He was handsome and clever and just the right amount of mysterious, catching Lauren’s eye immediately. They flirted, and sparks flew, and after the appropriate few months of dates and intimacy, she became his girlfriend. It was all very light-hearted and fun, save for the occasional moments of darkness that would come across in his humor or subtly in his mannerisms, and although they would sometimes offset her into a slight unease, Lauren was not concerned. She was too caught up in her whirlwind infatuation, and as her feelings for Caleb deepened, it bothered her less and less.
The first real fight they got into gave Lauren an opening glimpse into the dark side that Caleb had, up until this point, kept mostly under wraps. She had gone for lunch with a male friend, and suddenly something snapped; Caleb’s temper roared up and engulfed her like wild flames. He was yelling and screaming and cursing her whoreish soul to hell, and then she felt burning pain shoot up her spine. She was so shocked that she shrank back into the shadows, back flat against the wall where she had landed, in silence. She retreated until her face was grey and ashen, and she could hardly swallow for the lump in her throat. Then something within Caleb snapped again; his menacing demeanor dissipated as quickly as it had risen, and he dropped to his knees and pulled her body to him. She was still frozen, the shock had claimed control of her limbs, and like a rag doll, she fell into his embrace. He whispered soft apologies in her ear as he rocked her back and forth, kissing her hair, her neck, and the ugly bruise that was already beginning to color her smooth skin. I love you, he said, and you love me, and sometimes we make mistakes, but we forgive and that’s just how we love each other. Slowly, the color came back to her face and she let out the breath she did not know she had been holding in. Though she did not know it at the time, she lost the first small piece of her soul to him this day.
The next time it happened, they were visiting her family for Christmas, and after an unexpected encounter with an old ex-boyfriend, Caleb’s fiery anger left its mark around her neck. She covered it up with a turtleneck sweater and foundation, and another little piece of her soul crumbled into his hands. The days went on, and although he made her suffer through some of her darkest days, he also brought her some of her happiest ones. And so their relationship continued, with Lauren covering her bumps and bruises with lies and stories, telling herself that their love was real and honest and true, and this was just part of how they loved each other.
She woke up one morning, two years later, and all she could feel throughout her entire body was pain. He had been in a particularly sinister fit the night before, and as she opened her eyes and blinked the sleep out of them, she could already see the broken glass and overturned furniture in her peripherals. Slowly, she rose from the bed and made her way to the vanity table to assess and cover up the damage. She flexed her limbs cautiously as she went, a habit she had formed over the years to make sure nothing was broken. Before she sat down in the chair, a small corner of a piece of paper stuck underneath a broken shard of glass on the floor caught her eye. Gingerly, she bent down to retrieve it and sat down at the table. It was an old polaroid photo from her high school graduation, of her and her closest friends all hugging each other so tightly their cheeks were pressed up against the others’, with ear-to-ear grins on all their faces. She looked up from the photograph to see her reflection in the mirror, and burning tears started to run down her face, stinging as they rolled past the deep cut on her cheek. The girl staring back at her was nothing but an empty, haggard, beaten-down shell, as if all of the Lauren had been scooped and scraped and sucked right out. There was a hollowness to her eyes that she had never before recognized, but the picture of her younger, more vibrant self was irrefutable evidence. The evil had crept into her body, her heart, and her soul, masquerading as the love of her life, and now it had stifled and destroyed every last piece of her, little bit by little bit until it was all that was left. She knew now, that with this realization, she would never be the same. Whatever she did next would decide her fate, and she was not sure whether she would be strong enough to break away instead of succumbing to the evil. She wished she could tear up the picture, destroy the evidence, and continue with her love in the only way she knew how.
But, of course, it was too late. For once a story is told, it cannot be called back. Once told, it is loose in the world. (King, 10).
I have never made up a story and told it to someone strictly for storytelling purposes before, so this was an entirely new experience to me. I first wanted to use the subject of abuse as a form of evil coming into the world, because it is an issue that oftentimes gets covered up or hidden behind closed doors, but that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t happen frequently or that it is any less evil. Also, I have been closely following the Stanford rape case, and although it involves a different type of violation, it is all the same evil, and I, along with many others across the nation, have been horrified at the disgusting injustice at what should have been a black and white case. In case you haven’t heard about it, or are not up-to-date on what is happening with this case, current information can be found here. I have never personally been the victim of any kind of abusive relationship, and so while writing on the topic, I wanted to get better insight by reading blog posts by strong and courageous women who have endured and persevered through this battle. I felt that reading blogs or stories would give me a better sense of how to convey the proper tone, and attempt to understand even a small part of what they went through. If you are interested, one post I found particularly engaging is this story. Also, what reverberated strongly with me when I read it earlier this summer is the open letter that the Stanford rape case victim wrote to her perpetrator. A copy of it can be found here.
I discovered that it is honestly very difficult to tell a story from your memory, as remembering all of the details can be tricky. I found that while all of the main points of my story would remain the same, little pieces of it would change slightly each time I told it, and it actually changed the experience each person had. The more times I told the story, the more dramatic it became, as I used more colorful diction to describe the abuse that my character suffers, and so more and more, each person would find the story more intensely dark and serious.
Works cited:
Anonymous. “Her Story: I Was In An Emotionally Abusive Relationship.” HerCampus, 2 June 2013, http://www.hercampus.com/love/relationships/her-story-i-was-emotionally-abusive-relationship. Accessed 25 Sept. 2016.
Baker, Katie. “Here’s The Powerful Letter The Stanford Victim Read Aloud To Her Attacker.” BuzzFeedNews, 3 June 2016, https://www.buzzfeed.com/katiejmbaker/heres-the-powerful-letter-the-stanford-victim-read-to-her-ra?utm_term=.cb7Z5ZNVe#.yswr9r10a. Accessed 26 Sept. 2016.
King, Thomas. The Truth About Stories: A Native Narrative. Peterbough:Anansi Press. 2003. Print.
Sanchez, Ray. “Stanford rape case: Inside the court documents.” CNN, 11 June 2016, http://www.cnn.com/2016/06/10/us/stanford-rape-case-court-documents/. Accessed 25 Sept. 2016.