I am quite a headstrong person. I've always been that way, even as a child. Growing up the way I did, though, well, let's just say, that has gotten me a few beatings. I learned, even though I'm headstrong, I knew to just go unnoticed was to submit and just do what was said. I was happiest at school, but as soon as I got home, my mood would sour. I guess that's to be expected having to put up with what I've had to in my life. I have a fiery determination and when my head is made up, I'm very observant and use my wit to get what I want. Right now, my main concern is the safety of my daughters. They're my everything and I will do whatever is necessary to protect them, even if it means reducing myself to begging for things to help us survive.

I was born to a drunk and abusive father and a mother that was made for him in Cedar Hill, Missouri. My childhood wasn't great. My father would beat my mother for whatever reason he deemed necessary at the time. It could be because of her not having dinner ready at the exact time he wanted it ready or because she supposedly made a comment that he didn't like. I was safe from those beatings until I turned two. That's the first time he laid a hand on me. I ended up falling and skinning my knee which made me cry out. He didn't like it, so he backhanded me. My mother didn't really care, or at least she didn't do anything to stop him or protect me from it. All she did was tell me, "You'll learn to stay quiet eventually." Mother of the year award right there, am I right?

When I finally was old enough to go to school, it was my happy place. I absolutely loved school. Everyone there was always nice to me and I was nice to them. I didn't bother showing how much I loved it to my parents. By then, I just kept quiet at home so I wouldn't get a backhand from my father. Of course, that wasn't a foolproof way of not getting hit. Sometimes, he would hit me just because I came into his presence and he was angry for whatever reason, usually while drunk. He was always drunk.

I got really good at applying make up by the time I was just 10 years old. The makeup I would steal, first from the little bit my mom had and then it graduated to Walmart or even the dollar store by my house. I was good at stealing. It was the only way to hide bruises and black eyes on my face. I could use clothes to hide bruises elsewhere on my body at least. School was still my happy place though. I had dreams of leaving home as soon as I could and never looking back. I figured doing the best I could in school would be the easiest way to do just that. I had my plan in my head and I would do everything I could to make sure I was moving towards my goal.

That was until my father beat me so bad, that even make up wouldn't be able to cover it. I had a busted lip and a broken nose from that beating. The beating came from him telling me that he was basically selling me to the highest bidder, a middle aged drunk that he knew from somewhere. I was supposed to marry him and keep my mouth shut about it. I told him the one word that could set him off worse than anything else: No. I was just 16 years old. When he finally passed out and, my mother right there with him, I ran for it. I packed a bag with whatever clothes I could fit in it, stole every dollar my dad had in his wallet, and ran away, never looking back.

Well that was the spur of the moment plan at least. After the adrenaline wore off, I probably slept 12 hours or more in some po-dunk motel that only charged $20 for the room. I was happy though, making sure my money, the little bit that I did have lasted as long as possible, surviving off of learning how to beg for money and food and using what I had to keep gas in the run down car I was in as well as sleeping in my car.

I was stupid enough to let my guard down and just get a motel room one night a few months later when it was cold in the middle of winter and I didn't want to waste gas to keep my car's heater going. I probably slept a full 24 hours and then some that night though. I gathered my things and as soon as I opened the door, I was met with a fist to my face. My father had found me. How? I don't even know, but then he did have a way of finding things out. It turns out, I figured it out years later that the one person he was marrying me off to wasn't just some middle aged drunk he knew from somewhere. It was actually the police chief who was more crooked than one could actually think. I was brought back home and I was forced to marry that piece of shit and sorry excuse for a man. Hell, I still don't consider him an actual man, but that's beside the point.

Life was hell again, and from the wedding night on, I was raped and beaten. Raped because I didn't want to sleep with my husband, Travis Wildman. Beaten because I was defiant and would mouth off. The day I realized I was pregnant a few years later, when I was just 19, I surprised Travis by just taking his insults and berating me. I didn't utter a single word and just sat there. He didn't hit me that day. I didn't tell him I was pregnant, but he figured it out a couple of weeks later, realizing my feminine products weren't diminishing like usual.

In my head I didn't want the child my entire pregnancy and thought of doing something to get myself to terminate the pregnancy, but I also knew in my heart the child was innocent in all of this and they shouldn't be punished. So I endured the pregnancy, keeping my mouth shut to protect the life inside of me. Nine months later, I gave birth to a healthy baby girl who I named Caitlyn. Travis said that could be my one gift for being a well behaved wife over the entire pregnancy. I cherished Caitlyn too, trying to make sure I protected and loved her. Travis left me be, letting me mother our child. He had some humanity when it came to that at least, for a few months.

Six weeks later, Travis accompanied me, as usual, to the last postpartum appointment after having Caitlyn. It turns out, he was only allowing me to mother Caitlyn like I was because he was waiting for me to be medically cleared for him to gain his own pleasure again. We didn't even make it out of the parking lot of the hospital. He found a secluded area in the back of the parking lot, parked the car and raped me with Caitlyn in her carseat. I didn't want to fight back because I didn't want Caitlyn to start screaming if I was screaming myself. I just thought to myself, at least he waited for me to be medically cleared.

Once home, I was so numb, that I didn't even realize that he left me there alone so he could go to work. I tended to Caitlyn and been the mother I needed to be. I just prayed that I wasn't pregnant again. That night, his onslaught continued. I just took it though, not wanting Caitlyn to want to scream and anger him, or worse causing him to hurt Caitlyn. Thankfully, I didn't fall pregnant again, not until almost a year later.

Again, I was looking at not wanting to bring another child into the hell I was in, but I couldn't bring myself to punish the innocent child at the same time. This time, I told Travis that I was pregnant and it seemed like he was a model husband again. I knew as soon as he flipped that switch from what he really was like to what he was when I was pregnant, I couldn't stay where I was.

I began looking into any opportunity I could possibly make a break for it. Travis was very vigilant himself, so it was a game of patience on my part. I secretly began stashing as much money as I could, taking it from his wallet after he fell asleep at night, but not enough to make him notice. After my second daughter was born, who I named Carolyn or Carrie for short, I had six weeks of peace left until the doctor released me medically to resume all my duties as a wife. Duties that I never wanted to do in the first place.

I was tormented again, and I took it, as much as possible, not wanting to upset my daughters to have his attention turned on them in the way he was to me. I was able to just shut off my mind during his sexual assaults. I was a doting wife, trying not to show my daughters that a man is supposed to hit a woman. And for the last 10 years, it worked. My daughters were never harmed and when they were old enough to go to school, he allowed them to go to school. I was determined to make sure that they stayed away from the side of him that I saw, daily. I don't know how much they know of how he treats me, but if it's up to me, it would be nothing.

One day, I was trying to finish dinner as Travis walked in. He mouthed off saying how I was late in getting his food on the table and I didn't think, having let my guard down, and mouthed back, "It will be done in one minute." Clearly, that set him off and he walked up and backhanded me so hard that I stumbled and hit the wall. Both of my daughters had chosen that time to walk in. With just the slightest sound of a gasp, his gaze turned on them and I saw the anger on his face as I leaned against the wall, holding my face where he hit me. When he took the few steps over to them and grabbed both of them by their hair and yanked, telling them that they better be quiet, I came unhinged and I grabbed the hot skillet that I was using to cook dinner and went after him, hitting him on the back of his head as hard as I could. I grabbed the girls when he went down and rushed them to their room where I had stashed the bags I had ready with all the cash I had stolen from him.

It wasn't long before I had both girls out of that house and on the run. I wasn't stupid enough to take the car. There was only one care, his. He knew how to track cell phones and credit cards and had the means of quickly getting a BOLO out on a vehicle. I rushed the girls to the bus stop though that was only a few blocks away. Both of them were shocked at what had happened, but once that shock wore off and we were able to rest for just a bit, they started with their questions. Well, they rested, I pretty much was on high alert the entire time. I understood that they would have questions, and I answered them as honestly as I could for their ages. I told them that their father wasn't a very good man and if I didn't do what I did, he would've really hurt them. I told them that I would do everything I could to protect them because they were my life. I never once lied to them and I never plan on it, but I don't know how long I can keep sugar coating what had been going on for longer than they were even alive.

Eventually, I found a cheap vehicle. We had slowly made our way to Big Sky, Montana by bus. As soon as we got here though, I noticed a flyer for a car that needed work but ran and they wanted only $1,000 or a better offer for it. I took the girls to the address and met with the man, well, more like a boy as he was only 17 it seemed like, and explained to him that I only could afford $800, trying to talk him down a little bit. Out of all the money I stole from my bastard of a husband, I wasn't hurting yet on trying to figure out where the girls would sleep or eat next. I managed to accumalate almost $20,000 over the decade I had been planning my escape. I was smart with the money as well because I knew it wasn't going to last long if I wasn't. So I could've afforded the $1,000. However, I think the guy seemed to take a little pity on me and the girls, we all did look tired, especially me. So he accepted my offer and we were off in the car.

We've been around Big Sky, liking the homey feel of the city. I knew Travis would take a bit to probably catch wind of exactly where we went, especially since I got on quite a few different buses with the girls. Not only that, but the bus that took us to Big Sky, was actually supposed to take us all the way to Seattle, Washington. However, I cut that ticket short on purpose to just try to keep him off of our trail, at least for a little longer while we recouped and then were on our way again.

However, we just got hit with a problem with the car. While I thought it would save us a bit of money to have the car ourselves, and even though I knew the car needed work to begin with, the car managed to make it to a garage called Moretti Garage & Gas before it finally clunked out on me just a couple of days after buying it. I'm hoping getting it fixed won't take the money that I have. I might just have to cut the loss and continue on my way with my daughters. We will see though.