• “Please let me call them!” I said terrified. I was crying now. Tears were streaking my cheeks. “NO!” He shrieked. I was horrified… I looked at him with a horrid expression. “You have to let me call the police! I can’t let this continue!” I cried. His face was splattered with his blood. His tooth was knocked out. His lip was bleeding, and swollen. His face was covered in large gashes. He was trying to cover it all up with paper towels, trying to wipe the blood away, trying to make me not so terrified. “This has gone on too long!” I cried. “You can’t call them!” He shouted. He was crying now. He got on his knees begging me not to call the police. I was crying too. I was crying for my boyfriend. I was crying for the safety for his life. I was crying for hope. My boyfriend was crying too. I couldn’t imagine the pain he was going through. He pressed the paper towels to his gashes. The blood seeped through the thin material. I felt terrified. I couldn’t look at him. My own love, I couldn’t look at. The once white paper towel was now a dark red color. I felt as if the air around me closing. This was the fourth time this week; I’ve seen my boyfriend with blood splattered across his face. This was the worst I’ve seen him. I hated his father for this. I hated, hated, hated, and HATED him. I fell into Ryan’s arms. “Why can’t I call the police? It’s for your safety… I need to.” I whispered softly into his chest. Ryan looked at me. “If you call… They’ll send him to jail, but he’d be able to find me, and torture me even more for letting him in jail. Worst of all, he’d hurt you. He’d kill you if he knew that you put him in jail.” Ryan whispered softly. “But… he couldn’t hurt us. He’d be in jail.” I said through sobs. “He’d find a way to get out…” Ryan said. I didn’t believe him. That couldn’t happen. We’d make sure his father was in a place with huge security everywhere making sure no one escaped. “I can’t let him kill you.” Ryan said burying his face in my hair. I whipped myself away from Ryan angrily. “I can’t let him kill YOU!” I shouted. I was angry, sad, and terrified mixed together. It brought out a confusing me. Ryan stood silent. Blood still poured down his once beautiful face. “If I don’t call the police… You will die…” I said quietly. “We will have it worse if you do…” Ryan said. I didn’t know what to say.
    I took Ryan to my house immediately. My mom was at work as a librarian, and my dad was at work as a lawyer, so I was home alone. I cleaned Ryan’s cuts which I had been doing for the past two weeks. Two weeks ago was when Ryan’s mother passed away. Ryan’s dad drank a lot alcohol after that, and started beating Ryan whenever he was drunk, screaming it was his fault that his mom died. Ryan’s dad sometimes didn’t have enough money for alcohol.