‘I became pregnant. I was terrified. A dark shadow came across his eyes. He knew I was even more trapped in his spell.’ Teen mom’s incredible story of survival with her baby born from ‘the devil himself’

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“There is a light at the end of the long, horrible, seems like never ending, tunnel.

I hope and pray this story reaches the right person. To the one who feels like life is truly against them. To the one who really wishes they wouldn’t wake up at night.

My story begins when I was about 17 years old. I had the world at my fingertips. I was excelling in high school, becoming one of the top students at my dance studio, and eagerly looking at colleges. I landed a job at a local pharmacy store to work a few hours a week. Little did I know how much this job would change my life.

One of my first nights working, I met ‘B.’ He was charming, had a smile that could make you weak in the knees, and everything that a 17-year-old girl could dream of. ‘B’ was only about 3 years older than me. He asked me out one night after closing the store together. Let me tell you, I was head over heels for this boy. Life was even more perfect for me. I had everything I could ever wish for and now I had a cute boy crazy over me too.

Let’s flash forward one year later.

I’m now a senior in high school and I’m ready to become an adult. I’m still working at the pharmacy and am still in love with ‘B.’ All my girlfriends were so jealous I landed this amazing guy. Little did they know how amazing he was…

It started off with small things like little arguments. I didn’t think anything of it because so many people argue anyway. The arguments became more frequent, nastier, scarier. ‘B’s’ true colors were truly showing, but I had my love sunglasses on and couldn’t see a damn thing.

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Let’s flash forward about 6 months later.

I now hate myself. I hate everything about myself. ‘B’ would check in on me to see what I was wearing to school, who I was talking to, and what I was doing. I couldn’t talk to my friends outside of school. I was losing everything.

I wanted to end the relationship so badly. Every time I had the courage to do it, ‘B’ would sweet talk me right back into his cunning ways. One cold month of my senior year… I became pregnant. Me. The girl who had the perfect life. The girl who had a dance career waiting for her. The smart girl who wouldn’t do such a thing. I was mortified. Petrified. Terrified. I didn’t know what to do. I told ‘B’ I was pregnant and it was almost as if a dark shadow came across his eyes. It was like he knew I was even more trapped in his spell.

The arguments became a more than daily thing. He would drive by my parent’s house and make me get in the car with him. He would scream at me, punch me, spit in my face, and degrade me. Call me a ‘worthless pregnant pig’ and tell me how ‘no one would ever look at me.’ Still under his spell, I believed him. I believed every word he said about how worthless I was. No matter how many times I would beg him to stop or how loud I was scream in terror, he would never stop his rage. I kept wishing I wouldn’t wake up from my sleep. I prayed to God that He would take me and my baby into His arms in heaven. But each day I woke up. Each day I grew angrier that I had to live this life.

Now I’ve graduated high school. All of my friends are off to college. Some moved away, some stayed. But now no one wants to talk to me because they know I have a lunatic boyfriend. There’s no lonelier feeling in the world when you have no friends, no family, absolutely no one to talk to. My baby was born on a crisp fall day. My baby was so perfect. How could such a perfect little human being come from the devil himself. I cried and cried and cried. Then it was almost like a miracle happened and ‘B’ started acting normal. I thought to myself that maybe he was just nervous about the baby coming, nervous about being young parents, etc. So, stupidly I went and moved out of state with him with my precious baby. He told me he had an apartment. He showed me pictures, told me where it was. I was so excited to start fresh. I should have known it was all a lie just like everything else ‘B’ has ever done in his life.

Now I’m hundreds of miles away from home with my baby wrapped in my arms. We have absolutely no where to live. We only have ‘B’s’ beat up car. It’s cold out. I shed a tear or two trying my best to hold in my fears. The dark shadow cast its spell again over ‘B’s’ eyes. He screamed at me, told me it was my fault, and how I always ruin everything. Sadly again, I believed him. I hated myself even more. ‘B’ dropped me and my baby at a welfare location and told me, ‘Don’t walk out unless you found us a shelter to stay at.’

I begged and begged and begged the case worker to help me. She wouldn’t even look up at me and just said, ‘Sorry there’s nothing we can do for you.’ I kept wishing for her to look at me in the eyes. Maybe she would see my fear. Maybe she would feel my heart racing like a wildfire through my chest. Nothing. I shook with fear as I cradled my baby in my arms back to the car. I told ‘B’ we have nothing. Of course, it was my fault. He reminded me how I deserved to get spit in the face because I was such trash. A young pregnant teen. A whore. A loser. A nobody. ‘B’ was able to convince a family member to let us stay in her small studio apartment with her. He reminded me every minute how he’s the one that made things happen and found us a place to stay.

Fast forward about 6 months.

I’m now a prisoner in this studio apartment. I can’t go outside. I can’t go for a walk with my baby. I can’t call my family. I can’t take my baby to the doctor. I can’t work. I can’t smile. I can’t take a shower without permission. I can’t ask for help with the baby. I can’t watch TV. I can’t live …

But every day I would wake up and make sure my baby didn’t know the horror we were living in. My baby was full of life, giggles, and precious little baby kisses. We would read the same 3 books over and over and over again. We would watch the same 2 movies over and over and over again. We cuddled the same blanket we were allowed to share. We snuggled in the same sand-filled bag we were allowed to sleep on. My baby was just so perfect. It was almost like my baby knew not to cry too loudly so ‘B’ wouldn’t get angry. My baby was my angel on Earth.

Fast forward about another 6 months

‘B’ comes home from work one day and says we’re moving out of the studio apartment and that we’re moving somewhere else. I didn’t dare ask any questions. I jumped right up and started packing our small amount of things. The apartment almost seemed too perfect. There was a nice, large living room, a roomy bedroom, cozy kitchen, and a backyard. I was floored. I thought ‘B’ was maybe becoming a better person. Of course he wasn’t…

Our second night in the apartment, I’m sitting on the floor with my baby watching our favorite 2 movies. There’s a knock at the door, so I assumed it was ‘B’ coming home with the food we were allowed to eat. It wasn’t ‘B,’ it was a young man asking for the previous tenant. I thought nothing of it. I told the nice man that the person no longer lives here, but if he sees him, to let him know we have a stack of his mail. Back on the floor I sit. About 15 minutes later, there is another knock on the door. Foolishly I opened it. It’s not ‘B.’ It’s not the nice young man that came knocking earlier. It’s 2 guys, maybe older than 21, who come busting through my door with guns drawn at me and my baby. They demanded to know where the previous tenant was. They demanded I gave them the drugs they were owed. My poor baby was sitting on the floor screaming a scream that no mother in the world should ever hear.

I pleaded, cried, and begged them to please put their guns down so my baby wouldn’t be scared. I told them to take anything and everything in the apartment that they wanted, just please don’t hurt me and my baby. The 3-minute robbery felt like an eternity. They made me open the blinds and told me they would watch me after they left. They told me they will come back and kill us if we call the cops. They finally left. We’re unharmed. I asked God to please save my soul. I pulled out an old cell phone that had no service and prayed I could still call 911. The operator answered. I wailed for help. I screamed for them to stop taking so long to come help me. Little did I know there was an army of police vehicles at my door step within less than 2 minutes. I asked an officer to please get ‘B’ from his job to let him know what happened. ‘B’ came home shortly. He looked at me at first with a sincere look, but that quickly faded. The first thing out of his mouth was, ‘Why the F*ck did you open the door.’ He said it so angrily. In such a way I knew he wished the outcome would have turned out differently in benefit to him. And just like that, the spell was broken. It was like I was reborn. I realized he never cared about me or my baby. He only cared about how he could control me.

Little did ‘B’ know that his spell was finally broken. After all of the police matter was finalized with the robbery, I snuck out late one night to call my parents on a payphone. I told them where to meet me, what time, and to come in a different car to save me and my baby. ‘B’ left for work while I pretended to still be asleep. Freedom was running through my veins and I couldn’t believe it. An hour after ‘B’ left, I packed our small bag, loaded up my baby in my arms. We ran. It was cold out. The air hurt my lungs but I couldn’t care. Nothing could ever hurt me ever again. I saw the car my parents were in. It was almost as if a wind came and picked me up to take me there. I’ve never run so fast in my life.

Right when the door closed, we sped away. I cried, but happy tears. Freedom tears. Tears that never tasted so sweet. My precious baby looked at me and smiled, it was almost as if my baby knew. We’re safe and never to be found ever again.

Flash forward 6 years years…

Now me and my very grown up baby live in a perfect house with a perfect husband who chose to be a father. Life does go on. Life still brings nightmares here and there, but they all go away when I roll over and see my husband lying next to me.

Don’t ever let someone extinguish your fire. Don’t ever let someone think they have control over you. Don’t ever be a young, terrified version of me. You are strong. You are fearless. I believe in you. Believe that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Run and find it.”

This story was submitted to Love What Matters by a woman who chooses to remain anonymous. Submit your own story here, and subscribe to our best stories in our free newsletter here.

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