The greatest difficulty in my life that I ever faced was the relationship I once shared with a boy I took care of. As a young, infatuated girl, I thought we would always be together. Because I believed that I would always be with him, I accepted whatever happened to me. During the relationship, things had completely changed after we had been together for four months; he began to be violent more and more often. His suspicions and paranoia intensified as I entered high school and tried to make friends. This led to him literally cutting me off from contact with the rest of the world. His fear of losing me grew as time went by. I had distanced myself from my family because I was never home and I was no longer close to my friends because he could always find a reason why I wasn't with them. The actions he took against me were things no one should ever experience in a “loving” relationship. Did the fact that he exerted his anger on me help? No, because there was an endless amount of anger to vent on me. The scariest moment occurred during an argument; I was thrown onto his bed and he fell on top of me. At this point I closed my eyes and expected the worst. He pinned me down and twisted my wrists. Then he went on to say, “You don't deserve the air you suck,” and backhanded me on the arm, leaving a burning red mark that remained for two days. This has happened several times. After one of these dark experiences, I rolled up my sleeves and looked at my skin in the mirror at home. I noticed how bad it got. My delicate skin was now covered in bruises, darker where it hurt the most. At this point I knew I would no longer stay; even though this was love, I thought maybe love wasn't for me. At the beginning of my second year I decided to break away from him on the phone; knowing that I would be in his hands as I had felt in previous attempts. The more serious the crime, the fewer acts committed: this is why being suspected of murder can be offensive.