Author Notes: So this is undoubtly, my first stab at this type of fanfiction. So lets just clear the air now and save ourselves a bunch of grief for arguments sake, shall we? This fiction will be based on a little something I actually had the great pleasure to experience. Just the times, and some of the people and places are completely different. But other than that, it happens to be one of my greatest true love stories that was actually real. You know what they say, when writing about something, make sure you base it on something you know. Well, love has undoubtly been, second nature to me as you are about to witness. The circumstances will obviously be different, but it all stems from something very personal. I mean, for this type of fiction, these circumstances have to be different! Oh and not all the things I will be writing about will be 100 correct about some of the characters, again, that's a little thing called, "adjustments," just for this story though. So if something sounds a little, well, off... there is a reason for it. So sit back, grab your favorite snake, and watch the biggest fall of all... my own.

Introduction:

You know how sometimes there are just callings in life, you know, the type you just can't ignore? That type of calling that you know it's what you were meant to do with your life. Well I had mine at just four years old. I know it sounds completely and totally unrealistic but it's true, and you'll never believe what it was, or even what the hell caused it.

At four years old, most girls are more worried about Barbie dolls, watching kiddie movies or shows, being stuck to their mothers hips, and overall just being little girls and doing all the things little girls do. I was completely and utterly different. I was the tomboy. My reasoning for it you ask? Well my parents had just divorced, and I was sent to live with my mother in North Carolina. I had always been a daddy's girl, so this was my way of lashing out. Rebellion. I laugh at the word now simply because, it describes myself and my life in a nutshell. It was something I always prided myself on, until it was around time that it bit me in the ass. And even then because of my pride, I never showed any remorse for it.

I'll never forget that long bus ride with my mother, moving to North Carolina. We were poorer than dirt so we didn't have much stuff we were bringing with us, just our clothes and what little precious items that my mother did have. We didn't have the money for a hotel room or even a place to live, so we stayed at my aunt and uncle's home. Every little dime my mother had, made sure we had a ticket to our destination, and food to eat on the way down there. Even though, I now know that my mother infact didn't eat, she only had enough money to make sure that I could eat. She literally didn't eat for 2 days. It's something I felt guilty about when I grew older and thought back on it. But she didn't seem to mind, and she never showed it if she did. The move from Maine to North Carolina couldn't have been more draining, physically and emotionally. For such a young age, I was already experiencing something that no child, especially that young, should ever have to go through. Being torn between two parents and forced to leave one to live with the other. But it would be four years later that I would experience another cold cruel slap in the face, one much more damning and damaging than this. No this separation, this is child's play considering what happened next.

Four years later, I was obviously 8 years old, young and innocent, and had my eyes on the stars. At 4, I had already decided to be a singer and actress along with another bold career choice. But what I am about to tell you next that happened to me almost shattered that dream, and made me want to be something else completely.

I'll never forget that September day, it was cold and raining. For the past year and a half, almost 2 years prior, I had wanted nothing to with my then 23 year old cousin Alvin. Truth was, he scared the living hell out of me, and it was obvious that he was just a little off his rocker, as the saying goes. He had been trying to get me out of the eye sight of the rest of the adults, and do things to me that grown men should never do to little girls. He tried touching me in places he had no business putting his hands and I always managed to get away from him before he could really do anything. I felt dirty every time he ever came near me, hell even when he looked over at me! I mean, you couldn't blame me. I was scared to be alone with him. He would try on a daily basis whenever my mom would take me to visit him, to get me away from the other adults that were present, but I wouldn't go if I could help it. It was getting obvious that he was getting more desperate, as time went on. Truth was, I was scared to tell anyone, I knew he wasn't all there in the head, so only God knows what would have happened if I told someone what he was trying to do.

Then, it happened on that rainy, cold September day. At 8 years old, I lost my innocence in the worst way possible. My then 2 year old half brother, (my mother remarried, a complete asshole by the way, who use to beat her), was sick in the hospital with salmonella poisoning, and I was in the way I guess because I was sent to stay the night at my aunt Shelby's house. This is the same aunt who is the mother of my sick in the head cousin, but not the same aunt that my mom and I had to live with when we moved to North Carolina.

I remember begging my mother to not make me go, I told her I would just go stay at a friends house, or my step-grandparents home just as long as I didn't have to go there. I told her that Alvin was just weird and creepy and I would love to just stay somewhere else just as long as I didn't go near him. My mother wouldn't let up, instead the arrangements were already made, and I was staying the night, and my cousin was to bring me back to my mothers house the next day whether I liked it or not. In a nutshell I was screwed and I knew it. I remember how scared I was the night I left that hospital parking lot. I knew better than arguing with my mother, if I pissed her off, she wouldn't hesitate to take the belt after me and beat me with it. So I shut up, and went with my aunt. I can't even begin to describe the fear that ate away inside of me that night. It was a horrible, sickening, feeling. Like your guts are about to just be up chucked everywhere at any given moment.

I remember breathing a sigh of relief when we got to her house that night and Alvin was nowhere to be found, truth was he was out, and if I was lucky he would have stayed out the whole time. But no one in my position ever gets that lucky. No one. I remember going to bed that night, and waking up at exactly 12:45 am that morning, to having my pants pulled down just over my butt, I was sleeping on my stomach and I could feel his hands on my butt, fondling me. I remember pulling my pants up that instant and asking him just what exactly he thought he was doing. He kept begging me to let him finish, and after 10 minutes of me telling him no and to go away because it was wrong. He finally let up and left me alone for the rest of the night. I remember keeping a wary eye on the bedroom door for the rest of the night. I might have gotten a couple hours of sleep after that, if that.

The next morning rolled around, and my aunt was already gone to work. She was a prison guard at a prison that was about 45 minutes away from their home. He told me to get my stuff packed and load up in his light blue, chevy single cab truck, that we would get something to eat on the hour to hour and a half trip to my house. Not needing to be told twice, I did as he asked and we were soon on the road back to my home. I remember thinking the whole time, that if I just kept my mouth shut and just hung on for the trip home, I would be scott free. That I would be ok. I didn't know just how wrong I was. I remember halfway home, he stopped off to get us something to drink at a 7/11 store. He got himself a Mountain Dew, and he got me a Sunkist orange soda. And of all wonders, right after we left the parking lot, no sooner had I opened my drink and took a sip, as I was putting the cap back on it, he decided to hit a speed bump at over 35 mph. Causing me to spill my soda on my white jean shorts. From the look on his face, it was clear that this was intentional, even thought he tried to say how sorry he was and that I should change before I get home so my mom won't see that and get mad at me. I argued with him for over 30 minutes, telling him that she obviously wouldn't get mad at me or him and this isn't the first time I stained some clothes, infact my mom was use to it. Finally he said ok, and left it alone, but I could tell he was pissed off once again because I was fighting him and what I knew he was trying to do to me.

The rest of the ride went uneventful, until we were just outside the city limits of my town. He then pulled into an abandoned parking lot of a ABC Liquor store, and pulled around the side of the building, so that way no one could see us parked there from the road. There were white propane tanks sitting on my side of the truck and he pulled so close to them, that I couldn't open my door. I was trapped and I knew that something was up when he put the truck in park.

He started to tell me that I should change into another pair of pants, and that he wasn't taking no for an answer. My heart was beating so hard and fast, that I honestly thought it was going to explode out of my chest. I continued to tell him no, and to take me home so I can change there. He refused. We continued to argue to the point, that he was visibly getting angry with me and threatened to lie to my mom telling her that I was bad, and that I would get a whipping from her by time he was done. My mothers beatings from the belt scared me, mostly because of the bruises she always left on me. She was vicious when she hit me with that belt, so I started crying. I asked him to please step out of the truck to give me some privacy, he refused. Stating that it was his truck and he didn't have to if he didn't want too. After it became gravely obvious that there was no way around this, I asked him to turn his head and shift his body away from me so he couldn't see and I could have some privacy. He agreed.

I was shaking and crying the whole time I reached in the bag for my other pair of shorts. He kept his head turned as I grabbed the other pair and proceeded to slide my orange soda stained shorts down my legs. But then he turned around, pushed me back in my seat, and proceeded to touch my vagina. I remember telling him to stop and pushing his hand away from me. He told me thatI had better be quiet and let him finish what he was doing or else it would be worse, and from the look on his face, I knew he would really do it. So I stop fighting him, and let him continue. The whole time I was crying and begging him to stop, telling him that he was hurting me and this wasn't right. His fingers were drying and big, stretching me out, and rubbing me raw. I later learned that he did not break my virginity barrier, but at the time, I was in so much pain from the stretching and him rubbing me raw, it honestly felt like something was being hurt down there.

I remember the numbness I felt inside, the fear was paralyzing. At just 8 years old, I thought this is what rape was, and I no clue otherwise. I cried and begging for him to just stop the whole time he was shoving his fingers around inside me and all over my private area. Finally he did stop, but it was because he was done. What he forced me to do next, I'll never forget. He pulled his pants down over his penis and told me to touch him. I refused once again. He then told me that I either cooperate, or he would continue what he did to me only this time it would be worse. Out of fear, and not wanting to be touched again, I looked away, still crying while he grabbed my hand, wrapped it around him, and made me pump him in a up and down motion. I was so scared and sick to my stomach, I don't know how I didn't throw up. I remember just looking away, as he made me continue to pump away at him. As the tears streamed down my face, and my pleas for this to please stop went unnoticed by him, he finally came. I remember after feeling a warm sticky fluid started rinsing over my little hand, I looked over because I thought he peed on me or something. But I was wrong, he looked relieved, shoved a napkin in my hand and told me to clean up and get dressed again. I hurried up and wiped my hand off and pulled my orange soda stained shorts back up my body. Oddly enough, he wasn't bitching about those shorts anymore. Sick pervert.

He looked at me with venom in his eyes and voice and warned me that if I told something really bad would happen to me. Because of my anger, I had asked if he was going to kill me if I told, in a very sarcastic tone. I already felt dead inside, so I didn't care. He looked me dead in the eye and said, "I might."

I kept my mouth shut the rest of the way home, and by then he had forced me to stop crying so I wouldn't draw attention when I got home. When we finally reached my mother's house, he hung around for over an hour and a half, and just watched me. Because of my fear, I didn't say anything. Once he left though, I told my mother everything that he did to me and even what he forced me to do. Now this would normally be the part where the mother would call the police and have the bastard put away for life for what he did. I wish I could say my mother and her reaction would be normal. But because of my luck, they were anything but normal. What I'm about to share next, I wouldn't even wish on my worst enemy.

My mother proceed to tell me that I was stupid, and that I need to take a shower and not tell anyone what happened. Ever. I remember crying and telling her that this wasn't my fault, I certainly didn't ask for this, but she wouldn't listen to me. Instead she forced me into the bathroom, and told me to take a shower, and if I ever told she would beat me. I guess that's what happens when you have a mother who's more concerned about being publically embarrassed, than anything else. Even the own safety and well-being of her own child. The whole time I was in the shower, I scrubbed and scrubbed away at my skin, until it was literally raw and almost bleeding. I felt so dirty, and worthless. It's a feeling that no one else knows about unless they lived through the same thing, or lived through something a little worse, like an actual rape. Luckily mine was just a molestation and not an actual rape. I at least still had my virginity, something that he could have easily taken away that day, but chose not too. Something that through it all, I was thankful about.

It was never brought up again until two years later after I turned him in to a school guidance councilor. That's when the investigations started against Alvin, even my own mother was investigated because she failed to report it, and because of her handling of the situation. I still don't know how or even understand how my mother managed to weasel her way out of that one, but she did it, and no charges were ever brought against her. Most likely sold them some stupid sob story. She even asked for them to make a plea bargain with Alvin, claiming she didn't want to embarrass me with a public trial, even though that wouldn't be possible because I was a minor at the time, therefore no details of the case could be released to the public. But they managed to reach some type of settlement, which of all wonders, because obviously wonders never seem to cease when I'm involved, I never saw a dime of the settlement.

Alvin, was sentenced to a year in prison, but was released less than 8 months later on parol for good behavior, but part of that agreement meant he had a restraining order from ever coming within a mile of me for life. Something that I'm thankful even today. But oddly enough, that still doesn't stop making me the black sheep of the family. After that, some of my family members have since then had little to no contact with me, infact I was never invited to another family reunion after that again. Good riddance, I say. At least I'm happier now.

But something inside me broke after that happened. I became more aggressive, and angry with people and situations in the world. I finally started standing up for myself, and stopped taking other peoples shit. In other words, I became a fighter. When someone pissed me off, I made it know, and it earned one girl I was going to school with when I was 11 years old, a complete and total ass beating. Needless to say after this girl had the nerve to put her hands on me, not once but twice, she was seeing double vision after head collided with not only a steel locker, but my fists, and my feet several times. Until the teachers managed to pull me away from her. I received a 3 day suspension while she received one for up to 5 days for starting the fight. I remember when she came back to school, she tried to cover her bruises with makeup but the damage was done. I took out the toughest 16 year old 8th grader in school, at only 11 years old. It's funny now that I think back on it. But hey, the chick pissed me off.

Less than a year later after I turned 12 years old, I moved back to Maine to live with my father, who was still angry with my mother for not telling him what happened to me, he filed for full custody of me, and my mother readily signed papers that he could legally adopt me along with his new wife, my stepmother. Afterwards, my mother called me ungrateful, and let me leave, and didn't do a damn thing to stop it. Infact, she welcomed it and continued to raise my little brother. To say that I found a place where I belong, well I realized that after I got to high school. I made plenty of friends, and I even joined the Army National Guard at 17 years old. I found my home at long last. The one place where people thought, talked and acted the same as I did. Until I met him.

The one guy that I gave my whole heart to. We met in the Army, and to say it was love at first sight, would be a lie. I actually met him through a friend, who was trying to hook up with him at the time. I had just turned 19 by this point, and was already involved in another relationship with a guy back home. It was Fort Lee, VA and I'll never forget the months of October-December of 2006. When my friend was coming on too strongly to this guy, he turned his attentions to me. We began a friendship that blossomed into something way more. The guy back home that I was already with, maybe he did love me, maybe he didn't and just didn't know how to tell me. But either way, he didn't show it that often. Infact, during several phone calls home to him, he sounded bored and not at all like a person who was missing their other half. Through this, we drifted apart, I drift away from him like the leaves in the fall. And there was nothing I could do to stop it. But when one door closes, another opens. Henceforth, him. His name was Dave. And he was sweet and kind in a way I never experienced before. He showed his love to everyone. He was having the same problem I was having, but his, "ex," girlfriend, was a repulsive cheater, and was controlling over him. At least that's some of what he told me about her. The only thing was, he said he had broken it off with her, I would find out later, that he infact did not.

So our time at Fort Lee, passed with out too much incident. It was actually one of the most magical times of my life. Until, he graduated and had to leave. I'll never forget the day he left. He kissed me goodbye, and told me he loved me. That no matter what, after I graduated he wanted me to come to see him. Which I agreed. After he left in his taxi, I cried the rest of the day away. I tried to call him that night to see what he was up to and make sure he was home ok and if he was having a good time with his friends. That's when the phone calls started going unanswered or kept getting ignored. It finally got to the point that he just turned his phone off all together. I went with very little word from him for the first couple weeks when he returned home. By this point, I started suspecting he was hanging out with his, "ex," girlfriend again, and was possibly back together with her again and not telling me about it.

I remember one night I had enough of him ignoring my phone calls, so I had a friend of mine call his phone, and he answered it, most likely because he didn't recognize her phone number. She asked why he had be ignoring my phone calls, he then made up some lame excuse saying he was busy, but he would call me after he got off the phone with her. She warned him that I was getting really depressed and she was getting worried about me so he better call me or he would have her to answer too. He promised, saying he was going to call right after he got off the phone with her, so they said their goodbyes, and hung up. We both sat waiting by my cell phone for over 15 minutes, that's when it became really obvious he wasn't calling.

So finally, I tried calling him, and he actually picked up, but he sounded annoyed. Our conversation was anything but pleasant.

My surprise seemed to get the better of me when I answered the phone,

"Hey baby, what's going on?"

"Nothing much, just hanging out with a friend watching a movie," His tone was switching from annoyed to bored.

"Really, let me guess. Megan?" Megan is the ex girlfriend, and I knew this was about to turn completely ugly as soon as the question escape my mouth.

"Yeah actually. But we are just hanging out and watching a movie, nothing else."

"Really? You know this is starting to look really odd Dave, you don't answer my phone calls anymore. You're constantly hanging out with your ex girlfriend, and whenever you do answer my calls, you're hanging out with her, or you're just getting away from her for a few moments to call me. And now your watching movies alone with her? At her grandfather's house, most likely. Just like you got caught there before by your mom, just getting out of the shower at her house, while she's trying to hide in the house from your mom while she's trying to find out what the hell is going on with you and me and why you aren't returning my calls and you're always with her. What the fuck? Are you back with her or something? Because if you are you need to be a man and tell me now. If you are just going to hurt me and break my heart, do it now and save me more hurt and grief, before I get too much more in love with you."

"Oh my God! How many times do I have to tell you?! There is nothing going on! Jesus!" He then lowered the phone and tried to cover the microphone so I couldn't hear him say, "Hang on baby let me go take care of this, and I'll be back." But he didn't do a good job because I still heard it. Along with her saying back, "Tell that crazy bitch to stop calling you, or I'll report her ass. Fucking crazy ass bitch."

After I heard this, I knew and couldn't deny it anymore. There was really something going on. And he was refusing to tell me. He then stepped outside and said in hushed but harsh tones,

"What the hell are you doing? You know I have to play this off! You know how crazy this bitch is! She is threatening me with rape charges if I don't stay with her! We talked about this! I'm done with her, but I need to play this role a little while longer so I can get all my shit back and get the ring I gave her back! Are you trying to get me thrown in jail?! Because that's what you're risking every single time you call me!"

"So that's why you are constantly up her ass?! C'mon Dave, you must think I'm stupid. Every time I call your with her, and you press the, 'FU,' button on your phone or just turn it off. And that's why when I called her and told her that you and I were really together and that you told me that you both were over, she had no clue what the hell I was even talking about? She even got pissed off at me and told me that according to you I was a lying crazy bitch! Gee, that's sounds really familiar! Isn't that what you told me she was?! A crazy bitch! Oh and by the way if your slut of a girlfriend wants to talk shit, let her know that if she wants her ass beat that's the best way to get it."

"What the fuck?! So you don't trust me is that what you're saying?"

"Look all I'm saying is, if you are being dishonest and you're still together with her, if you're screwing her brains out behind my back, then you need to tell me and just break my heart now. Because I'm sorry but you're looking really shady and people are noticing it, so it's not just me. I've never been cheated on or two timed, and I'm not about to start now! So again, if you're just gonna hurt me, and break my heart, do it now and don't wait because it will only be a lot worse for me and you if you wait."

"Fuck this, I don't have time for this shit!" With that, he hung up on me.

I tried calling him back, but he ignored my calls, eventually he just turned his cell phone off, and kept it off for almost 24 hours. Nothing hurts worse than knowing someone you love is hurting you, and they won't confess to it, and even then try to make it out to be your fault somehow. I called him and left him a few voicemails letting him know that I was sorry and didn't mean to make him mad, but he needed to know how I felt about this all too.

Well graduation finally came around, and by that time Dave and I were talking again and making plans for me to come see him in Louisiana. I was so excited. I was going to be spending two weeks with the man I was hopelessly falling for, and it seemed nothing could get any better. And the even better news, he had broken it off with Megan. She had him thrown in jail for a few hours on false bullshit charges when he finally broke it off with her. But those charges were later dropped.

We spent an amazing two weeks together until he was shipped to Germany unexpectantly. It was while he was in Germany I was slapped once again in the face by the cold hands of fate. I found out from his best friend, that Dave did infact cheat on me, and had been doing so for over a month and a half behind my back. It started the night he flew back home. He met his ex at the airport, her and his friends threw a hotel party for him, and he fucked her at least twice that night. This is the same day that he told me he love me and kissed me goodbye promising that we would be together. And he fucked her that same night once in the bathroom and once in the bed infront of all of his friends. Sometimes, I still wondered how I stayed with him even after knowing that. But I did. Not without giving him complete hell for it and him lying about it. I treated him lower than dogshit. And the sad thing was, his family and friends tried to say I was a no good bitch because I was lashing out my anger at him and letting him know just how much of a piece of shit he was. Especially when I caught him, and he tried to lie about it and said that he only slept with her once, when infact it was numerous times. And because I lashed out, and told him how much of a screwed up asshole he was, I was the bitch, and I was wrong for that according to his family and friends. They felt he didn't deserve it. But let it be one of them, and the situation would have been different. That's the way it always goes. I didn't do anything to deserve that, no one does. So for them to take his side, pissed me off. But through it all, because of my love for him I stayed.

We tried to work it out, and we even stayed engaged. Oh yeah, we became engaged right before I found out his ugly truth. Go figure. Well, through it all though we continued to work it out. Then I became pregnant with our son. His mother wasn't too happy about this, because she had it in her mind because I wouldn't share details of our relationship with her anymore, that I was a no good, lying slut. Well after she threatened me, right after I found out about the pregnancy, me and her son were kicked out on the street. All because I wouldn't stand for her shit talking me anymore and I let her have it.

So for two and a half months of my pregnancy, we were homeless and everywhere I turned because of his mother and several of his friends, I was blamed for it. But he never once blamed me, instead he stood through my side through out it all. Maybe it was now because he blamed himself. Knowing that if he hadn't cheated I wouldn't have been so cold to him and others who were sticking up for him, and because of the fact I was no pregnant with our son. But I never once cheated on him or did anything to deserve that kind of behavior. It was because I talked him lower than a dog, and told him how wrong he was, that I got this reaction from them. The whole time I was pregnant and homeless, was the most depressing time for us. Until we finally managed to get back on our feet, and get an apartment.

The rest of my pregnancy flew by, and I finally gave birth to our son. Which I almost died doing, I almost bleed out on the delivery table, until the doctor finally managed to slow my bleeding, stabilize me and saved my life. My son became the biggest part of my world and still to this day he is. It was the happiest moment in my entire life when I held him to my chest and stared down at him with amazement in my eyes.

Time went on, and Dave and I were growing close again, and we decided to get married. It was a perfect July afternoon on a beautiful beach in Oak Island, North Carolina. But if only the marriage was that beautiful and perfect, we might have made it. But I soon found him with another woman once again, a couple years later. It was at that time, I filed for divorce. He seemed relieved as did his friends and family as if I was just finally out their lives. They of course treated his new woman like the gold they once treat me, until I caught him cheating on me the first time. So who knows how long this will last. But I honestly wish her the best of luck, she's going to need it, it won't be long until she sees exactly what I dealt with.

But through it all and even my depression of being a single mom, and now a failed marriage, I learned one important lesson. Never give up on my dreams, myself, or what I want out of life all for man. I made a vow to not only make my dreams come true, but to give my son the very best in life, help him realize his dreams, and if I did fall in love again, to give him the best father possible.

So for a year and a half, I trained to achieve my dream, and now, I perform on the grandest stage of all. I'm the newest diva for the WWE. The day my agent called me and told me the WWE wanted to sign me as their newest diva, I knew I finally made it to the big time, and I did it on my own, with encouragement from my son of course. But I did it.

So that's where I start my story, from here. At 23 years old, a single mother, and one kick ass career over 19 years in the making. But this story is more than just my career, it's about the one man who taught me more things about not only myself, and life, but even love in general. So who knew this one person from West Newbury, Mass. Would go from my mentor and co-worker, to best friend, and eventually everything more.

My name is Elizabeth Marie, a.k.a. Trinity and this, is my story.