He told me he loved me. That I was his world. That I was the one and only one. But that ended. My life ended on November 12, 2001. My world stopped the second he took control. On November 12, I was hit for the first time. Four years later, I have a daughter. She looks at me with all the bruises and cuts on my body and knows that one day this will happen to her. My life has been eight years of abuse and confinement. He controls my life, holds it in his hand. I am HIS! Until today. Today was the day I met him. Today, my life changes.