Last Night in Hell

Although unplanned, the last day of school was the last time I spent in the house with Bear. The night prior changed the entire course of everything. Exhausted from lack of sleep and stress, end-of-year school activities, and trying to find a new place to live, I came home from work and shut myself in my room as usual until Bear left. It was always a relief when he left the house, so I could at least sit in my room with the door open without him being there and listening to his stupid TV shows. At this moment, I do not recall if there had been an argument or anything prior to him leaving, but I don’t think there was. I do recall, however, that there was a ton of tension, all carried in my neck and shoulders. Writing about it makes me feel it all over again. 

That evening, I stayed home and looked online for places to live, contacting people about jobs, and doing whatever I could to leave my situation while also trying to gain an ounce of sanity. The last thing I wanted or needed was drama; I had to be up early on the last day of school. But Bear had other plans; he came home shit-faced with a huge attitude. It was 11 p.m., and I shut the door to my room when I heard him pull up. It was pretty obvious he had been talking with someone about our situation, because when he walked in, Bear started shit about me leaving. I was in no mood to argue, especially at that hour, when I was tired, relaxed, and about to go to bed.

Until that moment, I don’t know what Bear’s problem was, because I was minding my business and wished he would, too. It probably had something to do with me moving out again. He yelled from the other side of the door, “You’ve done nothing for this marriage! You contribute nothing! You…”

Wow. This is what he really thinks of me after seven years? I’ve contributed nothing? In that case, I just wasted seven years contributing everything to someone that appreciates nothing. And in that case, I think I’ll remove my name off of the utilities. All yours now! And when I’m gone, he’s going to realize how much I contributed, because I won’t be there to do it!

Now I knew I had to get out sooner than later. I had about $800 to use for moving out, so I contacted my friend about moving into the house that I wasn’t thrilled about. Knowing I needed to come up with more than what I had, I transferred $500 from the shared account with Bear to my account – still leaving enough for other bills. I figured if he wants me out now, then he’s going to have to contribute, because I was leaving everything behind. It wasn’t fair that he was trying to force me out, pay bills, and find a place all at once. In the meantime, I had to come up with all the deposits and moving expenses while he gets to continue living the same life. That made me a little bitter, because I felt I sacrificed a lot for nothing. 

Apparently, Bear had set notifications on his phone for every bank transaction, and he immediately got word of the transfer. I could hear him on the other side of the wall in the living room, huffing and puffing and saying something unintelligible. And then shit really hit the fan. Bear started ranting on the other side of the door like a lunatic about stealing “his” money. He tried opening my locked door, beat on the door, tried busting the door down from the frame. I the meantime, I was shaking, because I didn’t know what he was going to do to me. We no longer had guns in the house, so that was a good thing, but his size could easily hurt me. 

“That’s my money you stole! Put that money back now!” He was screaming. “Open the door now!”

“I can’t move out without money, Bear, so if you want me out, I’ll be gone tomorrow. I’m sure your mother will send you another check.” (That probably wasn’t the best thing to say at the moment.)

Bear’s words were angrier and angrier, so I hit record on my phone, because this was a little extreme for him. He stood outside my bedroom door yelling, “You fucking bitch! I should have known when my friends warned me about you!” 

His friends warned him about me? These were his drinking friends when we met, the very ones that I suspected had talked shit about me, because I felt it in my gut. (His best female friend was an extreme bitch to me when we met.) These friends of his knew nothing about me, and I didn’t even know them. They are the type of people that believe and spread rumors, because they’re pathetic pieces of shit. The same people that I would look right in their eyes while speaking to them, and they wouldn’t face me, wouldn’t look me in the eye when speaking to me. I always thought it was weird, and now I know why. Had I known those shallow assholes are the type of people he wanted in his life, I never would have married him. The friends we met together were also his drinking friends that lacked depth. 

Scared to death, I had never seen or heard Bear this angry before. Not knowing if I’d become a Dateline episode, I used my computer to message a couple of family members what was happening while the phone continued recording him yelling. They kept telling me to call the police, but I didn’t want to involve cops. Bear was still on the other side of the door yelling, but now it sounded more like foaming at the mouth type of anger. 

“Put that money back now or I’ll kill you! You bitch! I’ll fucking kill you! PUT IT BACK!! I’ll kill you!”

Now I was terrified. I didn’t know if he was going to kill me or not, and I didn’t want to take any chances. My insides were in knots. I looked at my windows to see if I could jump out. He was beating on my door and still trying to bust it down or pick the lock, maybe both. 

In the middle of messaging someone, Bear picked the lock, saw that I was recording from my phone and attempted to grab it. Since he was so drunk, he was sloppy, and I was faster. While I was holding my phone, my back to him, he was literally hovered over me fighting for it, hitting my arm and squeezing my hand to get me to release it. I don’t know how I was stronger than him except that I was determined he wasn’t getting my phone. Plus, I was sober and had good balance and strength and plenty of adrenaline. Bear grabbed me by the arms, pushed me, and tried knocking me down, but I was much stronger than he expected. The way he pushed me and the look on his face was like that of someone throwing away disgusting garbage. 

“How dare you put your fucking hands on me!! Get the fuck out or I’m calling the police right now!” I screamed at him. “And LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!!! GET OUT!!!” 

I shut him out and locked the door. Bear eventually passed out after he cried like a baby. Actually, he sobbed. I don’t think it was over me; I think it was over the $500. He made it perfectly clear that I was worth nothing if I had no money. My heart both broke and hardened a little more that night, and a wall went up with Bear that remains. 

I did not call the police for a few reasons. In Florida, if there is a domestic violence call, someone is going to jail. With the evidence I have of his threats to kill me, Bear would have gone to jail and probably faced some serious charges for that. He would’ve been fired from his job, would have legal issues, and it would have destroyed jobs he’s qualified to do. I knew it was the end for us, and I didn’t want more stress. I told myself it was just this one time, that it’s not worth to ruin his entire life. Obviously, this wasn’t the only time, but it was the worst and the last. 

There would be no sleep for me that night. It was after midnight, and a migraine set in. I packed two suitcases with clothing and everything I needed for about a week. It was too late to go somewhere else, because everyone was asleep, so I had to leave after work. The house I didn’t want to live in wasn’t available, because someone was still living in it. I had nowhere to go, and I figured I would live in my car until I figured something out. I ended up spending a few nights at my mom’s until my new place was ready the following week. 

Since I had everything packed, I figured it should be easy to move everything out while Bear was working. I never told him I was coming; I wanted no communication with him. A friend helped move my things into a U-Haul when my new place was ready. I had my bedroom set, hobby, and business items. I took half of the kitchen items, linens, a shelf, some plants, and since I had nowhere to sit, I took the patio chairs. Everything else was my personal items. Leaving my animals behind broke my heart, because at first I had to leave all of them. It was a sigh of relief to finally have my own place without tension.  

In the meantime, Bear was getting sympathy on Facebook by telling everyone that when he “came home from work, everything was gone.”

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