I always told myself abusive relationships were pathetic. That the women in them were insane; Crazy, I mean how could you stay with someone who hurts you? Thinking back to then, I wish I would've had a good or better judgment. I never expected to be stuck in the middle of one.

His words, they hurt, yes indeed they do.

His actions hurt me more. Cheating, stealing, binge drinking too.

What hurts more is that he knows it hurts. And yet he continues to hurt me. It was always verbal and emotional, never physical. Until now.

I couldn't help but stay. He was a God to others, but behind closed doors, he was a monster. You could see it in his eyes, and yet no one else knew what he was thinking. The pressure was taking over—and yet he took it out on me. God knows why. I can't help but stay. He knows he needs a problem, drinking and hurting me.

I know he loves me, and he knows he does—he can't help but hurt me. It's the only way he knows he's human. That he is flawed, though people picture him perfect. Flawed, that's all he wanted to be, not perfect.

The screams from stage and teenage girls calling him hot and sweet and the perfect guy; though that wasn't what he really was like.

Sometimes I tried to get away—to no prevail. He's find me, and the beating would be worse.

"Please," I begged, and he looked at me. Seeing the sadness and frustration in his eyes; I was on the floor, he had pushed me against the wall. "Baby, I-I-"His apologies always started off like this. "I'm sorry," he said, forcing a hug on me as tears wept down my face.

I turned away from him; I couldn't look at him, not now. I don't think I'll ever look at him the same. I don't even remember how we got like this, this broken up, loving the feeling of hurting each other. Yet, he was the one who hurt me most the times.

I closed my eyes, and prayed. He put his hands to my face, forcing me to look at him; forcing me to look in his eyes. His eyes, you could see he begged for my forgiveness, and that's what I loved. Loving the feeling is someone lost me—they'd regret it.

I pushed his hands away, standing up. "I'll be back later." I told him, and James shot up after me, following me. "Where are you going?" He asked, in an overprotective father's voice. "I'm going to Carlos' house," I breathed, opening the car door as I stepped inside. "No you're not." He threatened; I rolled my eyes.

"Just for the night," I said, calming him down. He sighed, looking at me as I drove away.

Chapter One: May 28th 2006

I looked at him, his eyes beaming as I walked into his apartment. "You seem excited," I smiled, gesturing for a hug as I held my arms wide open. He smiled, quickly pulling me into a hug as he spinned me around. I pulled away; giggling. "I love you so much babe." He said, caressing my cheek as I felt my cheeks go red.

"I love you too," I smiled, kissing him softly on the cheek. "Great," he breathed, getting the nervous feeling out of him. "What role did you book?" I asked, curious. "It's a show; Big time Rush." "What's it about?" "A hockey player from Minnesota getting the chance to go to Hollywood."

I giggled, "Like James Maslow has the will to play a conceited hockey player?" I joked, feeling his breath on mine as he pulled me close. "You bet I can," he smiled, and I quickly felt his tender lips on mine, and the world felt great. No, not great, Perfect. I was in love with him for years—and he finally kissed me.

"You do realize this is our first kiss?" He asked me, and I felt a huge grin plastering my face. "Yes, I do." I smiled, and he quickly wrapped his arms around my waist; and we both fell onto his couch. "James!" I laughed, hearing him laugh with me. "What?" "You're squishing me," I squirmed from under him. He chuckled, leaning his forehead on mine. "Are you complaining?" He winked.

"No, I'm just saying that you weigh more than me, and since I'm only 130 pounds and you're like I don't know a billion, the pressure of you on me is going to cause me to feel squished." James laughed at me, and I smiled. "Don't get all smart on me."He said, kissing my cheek. I closed my eyes; the feeling of his skin on mine gave me an adrenaline rush. I bit my lip, sitting up a bit. His hands didn't leave my body, he quickly grabbed my hand, and the look on his face—I knew he was thinking what I was.

"You're amazing you know that right?" He asked me, and I smiled. "Well thank you, "I said and he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me on his lap as he cradled me in his arms. "I wish we could just stay in this memory forever," I said and he nodded in agreement. "Everything is perfect." He agreed, "Just like you." I said and he frowned, his eyebrows crinkling. "I'm not perfect," He said, a bit offended. "You're as close to it as it gets," I said and he blushed, looking down. "Well thank you," He said—stealing my line. "Whatever now kiss me." I ordered, and he chuckled, quickly pulling me into a kiss.

Present Day

James ran into the house; the once loving house he shared was now always filled with his screams. And my shrieks of terror.

"Cassidy," He screamed running into the living room. I rubbed my hands through my hair; I had been watched the latest episode of 'Teen Mom' when he grabbed the remote out of my hand, throwing it against the television screen. I rolled my eyes, trying not to get him more upset then he already was. "What James?" I asked, feeling his eyes full of—I couldn't put my finger on it. It was filled with such anger and hatred, it made me sad. "Why in hell didn't you call me?" He asked.

I rolled my eyes; I had just gotten off my shift at work—and now this?

"I did call you, I called you four times." I said, trying to sound as calm as I could; not wanting him to lay a finger on me. "Well you didn't. I think I'd know if my phone rang." He said, spitting out venomous words. "And I think I'd know when I picked up the house phone and called you."

James got more angered, and you could tell. The veins on his neck tightened, and his fists were clenched. "Excuse me?" "You heard me! I'm not gonna stand here and let-" I was interrupted when I felt James' hand on my cheek, hearing a loud smack against my cheek and I quickly fell onto the floor. Tears dwelling in my eyes. "You listen to me," He screamed in my face; not even caring that I was crying. "Look at me!" He ordered, pulling my hands away from my face, he grabbed my pony tail, yanking on it.

"LISTEN to me!" He repeated, and I looked at him; tears continuing. "If you think you can be a little bitch to me, you're wrong." He spat. The grip on my hair tightened, I screeched in pain, feeling his hand on my neck. "Shut the fuck up!" he screamed, and I took a deep breath.

"Fucking bitch!" He screamed, pushing me against the wall. "Please—" I begged, crying. He didn't listen, I looked up at him, and he began the beating.