I Thought i'd escaped the Abuse-Then he shot me in the face (The story of Survivor worth telling)

It's funny what seems important, what sticks, when you're in the middle of a crisis. I don't remember being shot. I remember stumbling through the house, checking to see whether or not he was really gone. I remember that my car and cell phone were missing, and that he'd hidden all my atm cards. I remember moving to the couch, then breaking into my mother's bedroom and finding her on the floor. I remember kneeling beside her, and I remember that her hands felt very cold. I remember saying, "Mom, I am going to go get help!" But it was too late, i was confused and lost all at once i didnt know what to do. My name is Jessica and this is my Story.

I grew up in a home where i never knew my dad , the only child to a single mom. I lived with her, my grandmother and off and on, several cousins who came by to visit. Mum was one of my best friends. We bonded together doing things, cooking together, went shopping and sometimes together we visited her friends. I met James Ovie in 2005. He checked in at the salon where I worked, not to get a haircut, but to chat. I never told him where I lived or worked, but one day, before we'd even been on a real date, I came home to find him waiting for me at my gate. At the time, I thought it was romantic. Now, I realize that should've been my first clue but i was blinded by what was to come. James and I dated for two or three years, off and on. I'd never been married before and never knew what I did and didn't want, but I told James that if he ever hit me or subject me to any form of emotional abuse, I would leave the relationship. However, I didn't even think about doing that cause i knew i liked him. James put me down a lot. One of his biggest pet peeves was how I folded towels, which should have been my second hint. He'd say that if I folded them like he did, they would look better. I'd try it his way, but he'd just say, "My gosh, that looks even worse. Go back to the horrible way you were doing it earlier." He mocked my cooking saying i cant be a good cook like his mother. Once, I cooked a chicken for too long and he threw it in the trash, complaining that it didnt taste just the way he wanted it and It wasn't worth eating, he said, so that night we didn't eat at all, my frustration was just getting started. By our first anniversary, he'd already broken up with me multiple times. Our breakups would go like this; he would leave me crying, and before I could even clear my head, he'd be calling and asking for forgiveness. "I can forgive you if you'll change this," he'd say. Or "We can make it work if you'll fix that." It was always my fault, my flaws that needed work and not his, this was my third hint but i was blinded by my love and honesty for james that i couldnt see even a single mile ahead in the relationship. I was on a pedestal when we started dating and the fustration i felt grew more and more daily, he took me down, step by step until i didnt recognise my own self anymore. An emotional abuser like james makes you feel like a nobody and like no one wants you, that he's the only one who can love you and be with you,a controlling spirit he possesed. Even though I couldn't see how bad my situation was with James, the salon i worked with was going through a great deal of change, and I started looking for a new job further away, at least something that will take me away from James. I planned to keep my place at the salon and also stay with my mum and work harder to keep the salon from losing customers weekly. When I told James, he told me he'd leave if I followed through with that plan. Finally we moved in together hoping this would change anything, but i hoped not. One day a couple months later, in October 2006, he told me he needed time alone. He said I could have the bedroom, which was next to the bathroom, and that he would take the rest of the house. I tried to stand up for myself, saying, "I'm not going to stay in the bedroom. This is my house. I'm paying for everything." am sure your guess is as good as mine, i got the beating of my life that night, almost felt like i was going to die but thank God i didnt. That was the first time he chased me round the house like a mad dog. I ran from the living room into the bedroom, something, I still don't know what, whizzed past my ear and shattered the mirror in front of me. I was furious and terrified. I figured there must be something mentally wrong with him because he sure wasnt acting as a human, but I still didn't think of it as abuse.

After that night and other several nights of Abuse and emotional depression, i couldnt take it anymore so I filed for a restraining order and left for my mum's house at least to find peace if it still existed. He'd call me, saying he needed me. When that didn't work, he told me he was suicidal. By New Year's, we were back together, and he convinced me to drop the restraining order, but the state still had charges against him and they decided to send him to therapy and anger management programme. By the middle of the year 2008 things were the same, I honestly wanted to leave him for good. One night, he beat his dog in front of me so bad. It was brutal, and I told him I was leaving and never coming back for good. Out of anger he went to punch a hole in the wall, except he hit the wall and missed it badly, and the bones popped out of his hand. Instead of leaving, I took him to the emergency room. He left the hospital with his arm in a cast. in all, I still felt like I needed to take care of him out of the love i felt for him i guess. People don't understand why I didn't just leave. It's hard to explain. He made me feel like all of our problems were my fault, but that he needed me. Men like James twist your thinking until you're under their control. But finally, after my grandpa's funeral that year, I did leave. We had gotten into a fight in the car, and he said I could come inside to work things out or leave and be done forever. I turned and left, and felt so relieved. By the end of that summer, I was living in my mom's house, but realized I needed more clothes. I drove by our old house and saw that his car wasn't there, so I felt safe enough to walk inside. I wasn't there for more than five minutes when he came in behind me. He picked me up by the neck and pulled his fist back like he was going to hit me. I looked him straight in the eye and said, "Hit me. Hit me!" He knew me well enough to know that if he did, I wasn't going to get scared and run away. I would go straight to the police and make them take pictures. He dropped me without leaving any marks. A couple weeks later, on September 11, 2008, I met with James and his therapist for a morning appointment. I still was paying all the house bills, trying to save him money and keep my place. The cable bill was a steady payment i had to make cause he always likes to stay home and just watch Tv all day. When I said that in front of his therapist, it hit a nerve button in his head. As we were walking out, he said, "You're going to pay for what you said in there. You're going to pay." there and then i knew i was done for but where do i have to run to,where?

Later, while I was styling a client's hair, my mum stopped by the salon. I confided in her that I was terrified of James's threat. She told me everything would be okay, and we talked about thinsg that would just ease my tension and take my mind of present situation like cooking sphagetti for dinner that night. After she left, I finished up my last few appointments and drove from town to her house. I called friends as I was driving, trying to keep my mind off James, and we chatted until my battery died. As I walked in the front door, James came around the corner, pointing a gun at me,i was scared to my pants at the instant. I said to myself "this is it, i'm dead." When I tried to turn around and run away, he said, "You take another step, and I will shoot and kill you now."  then He shot once, pointing the gun towards the ceiling to prove it was loaded. James had me walk further into the house and take off all my clothes. I could see that my mum's door was barricaded with her green couch. He kept telling me that everything was going to be okay and that my mum was fine,how the hell do i believe that when my life is on the line. He used duct tape to cover my mouth and wrap my arms and legs behind my back. Then he started to rape me. I'd read in a magazine that if someone is raping you, you should just give in to make it physically easier on you. So I started to tell him through the tape how much I loved him, wanted him, and how much I missed him. He cut off the tape and raped me all night,it dawned on me my life was literally over i felt useless and reduced to nothing.

During my rape experience with james whom i thought loved me as much as i did love him, I went inside my own head. I thought about my mum. Was she really okay? Did he knock her out? If I had been trapped in the bedroom, I would have been breaking the windows, trying to get out. My mind was all over the place, it was a life and death situation for me. James finally finished, had me put on my clothes and get into the bed. I remember thinking I should pretend to be asleep. Then, I was falling to the floor and remember thinking, This is a weird way to pretend to be asleep,i was lost, blank and just seeking the grace of God for my life to be spared that faithful day. For some reason i cant remember what happened next all i remember was him saying to me how much he hated me and how he thought i was a mistake in his life, that's when he'd shot me in the face and left me for death. The hours that followed are seared into my memory, breaking into my mother's room, feeling her cold hands. Because the phone line was cut, I had to run find help. There was a long gravel driveway between Mom's house and the main road. Barefoot and bleeding, I stumbled, then crawled my way toward passing traffic for help. Finally, the driver of a pickup truck stopped and drove me into town. Next thing I knew I was in an ambulance. Medics cut off my clothes, despite my resistance. The rest of the night is foggy. I have a recording where I'm talking to a Police officer before I was whisked away to the hospital. From there, everything went dark until I woke up from a coma a month later.

Later, I learned that James told police that he'd broken into my mother's house to steal her gun and commit suicide. He said my mum had interrupted him and tried to grab the gun away from him. That's when James shot and killed her(guess you didnt know he killed her right?). From the moment I woke up in the hospital, I felt like I was in a dream. It honestly didn't sink in until I was testifying in court. That's when it all hit me, he really killed my mom, and he really thought he killed me. Oh james what did i ever do to deserve all this, he took it all from me just because i believed in togetherness forever. Police had locked down our small home, and by the time they found James, he had taken some pills. Not enough to kill himself, but enough to make it look like he was trying. He admitted to killing me; they didn't tell him I was alive until several days afterward. When I testified in court, I didn't want to look at James. They put him in another area so we couldn't see each other. The only reason I feel safe today is because he got life without the option of bail or visit from anyone. That doesn't happen very often with domestic abuse unless it is too late like in my case, i had already lost my mum and was about to loose my life. I was never shown the bullet from the day I was shot because it never came out of my head. Today, half of my face is paralyzed; the other half is numb. If my eyes were teary or if I had a runny nose, I do not feel it until it's past my chin. The doctors gave me a metal eye socket because mine was shattered, and they were amazed that I didn't lose my vision in that eye. Still, I can't see side-to-side and I get eye infections all the time. It also left me half-deaf on my left side. My short-term memory also took a hit. Despite this, I'm dedicated to helping other victims of abuse by sharing my story to all who care to listen and pull out before its too late, I wish victims knew when they are in it. I wish there was an easier way to leave an abuser. When I speak, I tell people that abuse isn't always physical. Sometimes, it's just about how you fold the towels. By the time you know you're being abused, your abuser has you so controlled and warped, that it's almost impossible. It's hard to get out, but believe me, you can ONLY IF YOU KNOW WHEN TO PULL THE PLUG.

All names used in this story are not, in any way relating to anyone living or dead,the identity of the victim in this story is anonymous.

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