He hits me. Not very often and not real hard, but he hits me. Sometimes with his words, other times with his hands. I force him to do that with the way I behave, he says. It doesn’t show, I don’t have to conceal it. I don’t like when he does that, except for that he is always very kind afterwards. I can feel that he loves me, he gives me consolation if I cry and he gives me presents. I try to do my best to make him happy, cause I don’t like to be hit. There is no way I can tell when and why I make him angry. Sometimes he adores me, other times he is mad at me. If we go out together nobody can tell what happens at home. You can’t see it and he is a real cool guy. Luckily, cause my brother would be very angry and my friends wouldn’t understand. I really love him, wouldn’t wanna let him go. We are perfect for each other except for this. Sometimes I even forget that this can happen. When he is by my side, I feel so sure. I think he likes that I look good. I take good care of myself and I have a pretty nose and rosy cheeks, heart-shaped face. I guess that’s why he never hits me in the face. I had boyfriends before, but nobody cared about me enough to wanna make me a better person.
He is coming home, I can hear his footsteps on the stairs outside. I have to stop now.