I was so scared walking towards my front door. I didn’t make enough money to keep my crackhead boyfriend high all night. I opened the door and handed him all of the money I made from hooking up and down the boulevard. He counted the cash with an evil snarl on his face. He threw the cash at my face then slapped me so hard that I fell to the floor. He spit on me and relief briefly flooded through my body. I thought his tantrum was over, but I was so wrong. He gripped my hair in his fist and dragged me upstairs like I was a rag doll. He flung me towards the bed and pulled his belt from his pants.
“Get your fucking clothes off NOW!” , he demanded.
I took my clothes off and he started whipping me with his belt like I was a runaway slave. He hit me over and over again, each last worse than the one before. He hit me until his arm got tired. With welts all over my body, I curled up into a ball and cried myself to sleep.
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