I never thought that at twenty-two, I would be married, mother of a two-year-old, and being abused by my husband. I always thought I'd go to college, get a stable job, meet someone, get married, and then have kids.

Nothing worked out in that order. Junior year at Forks High, I met a boy whom I fell in love with, his name was James Dale. He was every girls dream; he was running back for the school football team. His long blond hair was always tied back at the nape of his neck, and his piercing blue eyes were just amazing. His eyes were the first thing I fell in love with, they were just blazing with love and passion.

We dated through all of junior year; we were what you would call, inseparable. Of course we went through hell for our relationship to work, there was always someone trying to break us up. First it was Jessica Stanley, always telling me that James liked her and not me. **, she was just mad because she had liked James since elementary school. Our senior year was the hardest though; I found out I was pregnant just four weeks before graduation.

I was a mess for a few days; of course James was there for me no matter what. He supported me in whatever decision I made, I knew I couldn't kill nor give up my baby, so we decided to keep it. After the nervousness faded out I was ecstatic about being pregnant. I had wished that it hadn't happened like that, but no matter what our baby would be loved.

James was great, he didn't want the town talking how I got pregnant out of wedlock, so the week after graduation we got married. It was a small ceremony, only close friends and relatives were invited, but everything was perfect. James mother, Victoria and father, Laurent were especially generous. Our wedding gift from them was an apartment in Seattle, so we could still go to college like we had planned.

We both started at the University of Washington that fall after graduation. It was hard being a nineteen-year-old student, wife, and soon-to-be mommy, but I made it. I gave birth to a beautiful little boy the spring of my freshman year to, Aiden Charles Dale. He was born at thirty-nine weeks, a little pre-mature but he was healthy, and that was all that mattered.

James was next to me as I gave birth, and the first time we got to hold him. That was the sweetest memory I have of them, James with tears in his eyes as they doctor handed him his son. The sight made my own tears well up.

Six months after giving birth is when things started changing. I noticed James would get home late from work-he quit college just months before Aiden was born- and sometimes would get home drunk. He would interrogate me on what I did during the day, which wasn't much since I just cleaned, cooked, did laundry, and took care of Aiden. I was allowed to go out, but never for more than an hour, and always had to be with only Aiden, no one else. When he got home really drunk is when he would start slapping me, I tried running away once, but he threatened to kill me and Aiden. I gave up after that.

I didn't care if he hit me, but I never let him get close to A.C-I called Aiden, A.C. for short- I would put him safely to bed and took the beatings from his father.

When James wasn't around is when I would cry, I couldn't cry in front of him because he would just laugh and hit me harder. I took those beatings for a year and half. When I noticed A.C. was getting older, and knew he would soon understand what was happening, is when I knew I had to get him away. He would not be put up to watching the horrors his father was doing. He would never grown up and think that it was okay to hit a woman, Aiden would be a respectful young man, and I would make damn sure about that.

For weeks I planned our escape, I didn't have much money due to the fact that James never let me work, so I would start secretly taking money from James. I did that for two whole months, until I had enough to get my son and me as far away as possible from his monster of a father.

It was Friday night; I knew James would be home around one in the morning or two at the latest. I grabbed a duffel bag, and stuffed it with all of the most essential things. The three-thousand and something dollars I managed to sneak out of James were placed safely in Aiden's, coat pocket. It was December, and cold outside in the Seattle night. I shimmied A.C. into his footsie pajamas and a coat before wrapping him in a couple of his baby blankets to keep him warm.

"Where's the hat?" I mumbled softly as I searched around for A.C's furry trapper hat. I looked everywhere but didn't see it. Finally looking under the sofa cushions, I found the furry, plaid trapper hat I had bought him a few months ago. Quickly checking the time on the stove I saw that it was almost midnight, I'd be lucky if James didn't come home until two. I didn't want to risk making it out of the building, only to get caught waiting for the damn taxi.

"Aiden, baby come on we have to go!" I said as Aiden came tumbling towards me smiling, he didn't know why were leaving. I would never tell him what happened, if he ever asked I would simply say his father died.

I picked him up and hitched him on my hip as I grabbed the duffle bag in my free hand and quietly walked to the door. I swiftly turned the knob, and peeked my head out to make sure the hallway was clear; I couldn't risk anyone seeing me.

"Daa-daa" A.C. yelled, "Shhh baby, be quiet please?" I whispered.

Thankfully he quieted down; I sprinted down the hall and repeatedly hit the button for the elevator to come up. Hurry up, Hurry up, hurry up, I said impatiently while looking around making sure nobody was watching.

Finally I heard the distinct sound of the chime of the elevator; I smiled and tightened my grip on Aiden. Then the doors opened.