Ugh.
That b***h f*****g knocked me out again.
My cheek is still ringing from the number of times that she has tried to slap or punch me.
My lip is bruised and so is my hand from that one time I tried to stop her from attacking me and she twisted my arm hard enough that I am certain that it is sprained.
I look around and find myself in some seedy motel room, currently tied to an armchair from the last time when I tried to escape and now, I am not even sure how much time has passed.
The fear for my own life and my unborn child’s life is persistent in my heart and I believe it is vital that I find an escape from this hell that I have found.
Even though I’m trying to remain strong, I am unable to keep myself from thinking about the negative things.
I have been kidn*pped by the tw
