1 in 3. This is my story.

It was the middle of my sophomore year and i had just met this guy, Taylor, at a party through my cousin. He was great. Charming, attractive and considerate to name just a few of his qualities. Soon after we started hanging out, texting and even talking on the phone. All the time. I was falling for him. Very fast. We soon made it official and he was my boyfriend. I was so excited. He'd take me out on dates, buy me gifts, and he even took me home to meet his dad. He was the perfect guy. Or so i thought. We started getting more and more comfortable with eachother and i started spending the night at his house when his dad would go on business trips. We would sleep in his bed together and sometimes yes, other things happened. One friday night we decided to throw a party at his dads house. It was the perfect party house and the perfect idea. I had just gotten out of the shower and i was sitting on his dads bathroom counter doing my makeup and he came in with a "pre-party drink". I could tell he had already been drinking well before he had made us these drinks. I refused it. I told him i wasn't planning on getting trashed that night so i didn't want to start drinking till the party actually started. He didn't really like this response. He told me that if i didn't start drinking with him that he would call everyone immediately and the party wouldn't ever happen. So i reluctantly took the drink. This would be the first night i really saw Taylor for who he was. He left the bathroom and i continued to get ready. Without the drink. I got dressed in my typical outfit, ripped Hollister jeans, Ed Hardy tube top (which showed my stomach and my belly button ring) and matching Vans and downed the drink. I didn't want it but i also didn't want him to get pissed off because he was already scaring me. When i got down to the kitchen Taylor immediately flipped out and started cussing and throwing things and told me to go change. Of course my natural reaction was to get pissed off and ask why. He told me that there was going to be drunk guys around me all night and he didn't want them to get tempted at all. I didn't completely believe him but i went upstairs and put on one of his riding jerseys. I came back down and people had already arrived. I went outback with Terry, he was a mutual friend. We went over to the keg and started pouring drinks. Taylor suddenly burst open the door and told me to get inside. Terry told me to stay because we were in the middle of a conversation but i was afraid. Of Taylor. I went inside and started talking to Nicole, Terry's girlfriend, and Taylor left the room without saying another word to me. I was so confused but i just chalked it up to his being drunk. Terry came back inside with mine and his drinks and we started back up on our conversation. Taylor soon after came back into the room and pulled me by my arm to the corner and i will NEVER forget what he told me. He looked me straight in the eye and these words came out of his mouth, "You fucking whore! I told you to change because you looked like you shoulda been working a corner somewhere and i knew that it would be easy for guys to flirt with you and you to flirt back! And i saw that God damn look on your face when Terry said hi to you. I know what your fucking intentions are and i know what his are. So if you keep talking to that dick and acting and looking like a prostitute i'll beat your ass! And i God fucking damn mean it! Keep fucking testing me!". I was stunned. I had never fully understood how someone could be "scared for their life" but at that moment i was truly scared for my life. I immediately ran upstairs. I never experienced the party but Taylor stayed downstairs all night. I needed someone to talk to so i went downstairs to talk to Nicole, who had witnessed the act. I wanted to talk to Terry but i was afraid. I was walking down the last flight of stairs, face stained from my tears, when Taylor started walking up them. He grabbed both of my wrists, unbelievably hard, and threw me down the last couple stairs. No one saw. They were all outside. Having fun. Unlike me. I stood up and my wrists throbbed and were incredibly already getting swolllen. I went outside. My only thought was "I have to get out of here. It's only me and Taylor in this house and nobody can hear me through the doors. He almost just "beat my ass". Just like he said he would.". I ran outside and Taylor immediately followed. When people asked what had happened to my wrists Taylor immediately threw his two cents in and told everyone i tripped down the stairs. His whole story was far from the truth. He told everyone i had fallen down the stairs and the only way he could catch me was by my wrists and thats why they were swollen. Everyone believed him. Everyone except for Terry and Nicole, who just shot me worried looks. I shrugged my shoulders at them and walked back inside, upstairs, into his dads room, packed my bags and called Nicole and asked her if she could come upstairs and take me home but i told her i didn't wanna talk about it. I stayed Nicole's house that night. The next day Taylor called me and said he wanted to talk to me and that he was really sorry. I agreed but only if it was in a public place. We went to the mall. I sat down at the food court table but never once looked at him. He began by saying he was really sorry and that only happened because he had way too much to drink. In a summary of his apology he told me he promised it would never happen again. I accepted his apology and kissed him. At that moment yes, i believed he'd keep his promise. I mean after all, i loved this kid. Everything went on like normal after that. We were in love and just like he'd promised nothing ever happened. A couple months after the party i had a pregnancy scare. Taylor wasn't ready to be a father so one night, his dad was out of town, when i was walking downstairs he came up behind me and pushed me down the stairs. I ended up losing the baby. I also had two black eyes and a broken wrist. Since i'm an avid soccer player i just told everyone it was from a brutal game. No one thought anything else of it. From then on the abuse started happening more and more frequently, almost everytime we were alone together. I couldn't tell anyone. I thought no one would understand. Until one night, almost about two years after the very first attack at the party, when i stayed the night at Taylor's. We were getting ready to go to bed when he told me he'd be right back. I went upstairs and about five minutes later he came into the bedroom with sodas. In cups. I drank it and changed and then layed down. That's the last thing i remember of that night. I woke up the next morning and Taylor wasn't there. I got up and realized i didn't have my shorts on. Or my underwear. I went into the bathroom and i was covered in bruises from head to toe. It was the scariet moment of my life. In that moment i realized two things. The first one was that Taylor had drugged and raped me the night before and the second one. The second one was that i needed to get out. Now. Out of that house and out of his life. Forever. I haven't seen him since. And i don't ever wish to again. I have told my story because i want people to realize that it will only get worse if you believe the lies you are told, if you don't tell someone and if you don't leave. Yes, its gonna be hard and scary but its for your safety. Not everyone that goes through this is as lucky as i am to be telling my story right now. So please don't be the one that doesn't make it out.