She was the sweetest girl I ever knew, and we had a beautiful relationship. I loved how kind and unassuming she was. She avoided confrontation and always put others before her. After my father died from drugs, she made my life worth living again. She was a virgin and didn't smoke, do drugs, or even curse. She was soft and delicate; a breathtaking model from Puerto Rico who taught little kids how to dance. She said I was the perfect guy for her. At last, here was someone in my cold world who wasn't corrupted. I considered her my angel, and I adored her innocence. That innocence was largely a product of her strict Christian upbringing, which tragically came with side effects. Because her parents were so strict and didn't let her develop on her own, she had very low self-esteem and other emotional problems. Our relationship didn't last because she couldn't handle being treated with dignity, and she soon gravitated to an abusive coward. He cheated, hit her, put her in the hospital, made her sleep on the couch, locked her out in the rain, and even forced himself on her to take her virginity. She was miserable, but she stayed with him.
Whenever I tried talking to her, I could never get through to her. She'd tell me things like she used to be afraid of him, but he's changed so I shouldn't worry. Then he'd do something worse than before. This went on for over two years. Her parents cut her off, which drew her even closer to him. Her sister told me he did everything to her except kill her, and if she stayed with him much longer, he would kill her. To be sure, I was in love with her and wanted to show her a better way. But most of all, I was worried about her. I pleaded with her friends and family to stay positive and support her, because otherwise she'd never leave. I even spoke with the church and asked them to pray for her.
Meanwhile, I wanted to kill this guy myself. Of course, I knew actually killing him would only make things worse for everyone. But the situation was very serious and I didn't know how much her life was being threatened. It felt like he was pointing a gun at her and she was insisting, "No, don't do anything. He's not going to shoot me." I managed to stay optimistic enough to avoid doing anything drastic, but my presence in her life and the way she always spoke so highly of me intimidated him. He actually challenged me to a fight. His stipulation was that if I won, he would break up with her for good. But if I lost, I would have to leave both of them alone forever. I could not believe his audacity, but I quickly accepted before he had second thoughts. We arranged to have a legitimate fighting contest during a local wrestling show at a high school gym, as we both knew the promoter. There would be a referee, and the terms would be bound by contract. As ridiculous as this all was, I was desperate to help her and to hurt him. I saw this as my opportunity to do both. Besides, I knew I could kick this punk's ass.
The night of the fight, he pulled a swerve. We were backstage at the show, but kept separated. He came out to the ring alone and said something like, "I'm going to make this easy for you. You won't be fighting me tonight. You'll be fighting my girl. Think you can handle her? Don't choke!" and laughed maniacally. I was mad he was trying to back out, and I also knew there was no way I could hurt her. He was trying to force me into his usual position -- being the aggressor against her -- by using the opportunity to save her as bait. I was about to leave in disgust, when she came over to where I was backstage. She told me she couldn't believe he was doing this, but we should just do it because she "really wants this to be over." She was acting very disgusted with him, and hinted that she wanted to use this as a way to finally leave him. Long story short, she talked me into having the match with her. I'm about 6' and 175 pounds; she's 5'5" and 130 pounds. I figured if anything, I could just overpower her and win quickly without causing any pain. So, it was on. Me versus her with the same stipulations.
She didn't do much in the ring. She was acting very tentative and nervous, as I expected she would be. I wanted to finish it as fast as I could. I carefully took her down to the mat and tried to pin her shoulders. She successfully wiggled her way out, which surprised me a little since I thought she wanted to lose. Trying to keep my focus, I stayed on her and kept trying to hold her shoulders down. Every time, she defiantly raised her arm up. Frustrated, I grabbed it and put her in an armbar. I applied just enough pressure for her to know I had her. She struggled, but was unable to free herself. I was praying she'd realize defeat and give up. I think she was shocked at what I was doing, and she screamed. The dude, whom I was trying to ignore but had been outside the ring the whole match, jumped on the apron and yelled at the referee: "He's hurting her! He's hurting her!" I wasn't hurting her. But I wanted badly to hurt him. So I let go of my hold and charged at him. He immediately jumped down, and we started arguing while the referee tried stopping me from going after him. For those few seconds, my back was turned to her.
That's when it happened.
She snuck up from behind me, and in one motion she wrapped her right arm around my neck while locking it into her left arm, which she pressed against the back of my head. As she did this, she screamed "Toma!" with a Spanish accent (which roughly translates to "Take that!"). I instinctively coughed and gasped for air, and she offered a sympathetic "Awwww," as she tightened her grip. For someone so concerned, she was determined to keep me trapped. She also seemed to be having fun all of a sudden. The dude was holding his own hands to his neck and making mocking gestures. The inside of her arm was pressed firmly against my throat, and I realized I was in trouble. She confidently proclaimed in my ear: "It's over."
Being much bigger than her, I still believed I could use my size advantage against her. I convinced myself there was no way her little arm could take me out. Any size advantage I had, however, was neutralized when she rather easily pulled us both to the mat and wrapped her legs around me. I was officially stuck. Judging by her technique, I could tell I was set up. She knew exactly what she was doing the whole time. Smiling, she affirmed: "I told you it was over." She was now using her whole body to increase her leverage over me. Despite my initial reaction, I could breathe air into my lungs; but I felt myself fading nonetheless. I put my hands on her arm and tried desperately to pry her off me. She wouldn't budge. I was only trying to help you, I thought. What are you doing?
"Dude, you're not going to escape. Just tap out and I'll let you go," she said authoritatively.
I could smell her perfume. She smelled so sweet. Her arm even felt so soft against my hands trying to take it off my throat. She had these cute hairs on her arm that shifted back and forth as I ran my hand along it. Even as she was brutally strangling me, she was angelic. This was a tragedy. By this time, I fully accepted that I was moments away from passing out. I knew if I did, I was leaving myself open to cheap shots from her man. So I tapped her arm three times in defeat. The referee called for the bell, and the kids in the crowd were cheering and laughing. She released the hold, and the two of them celebrated over me with a kiss. I was beyond humiliated as they danced off into the sunset together.
The next day, she uploaded victory pictures to her Facebook page that included one with her making a pouty face and the caption: "Whats wrong? Couldn't escape my wittle hold?! Hehehehe" A few of her friends "liked" it and some even went as far as making laudatory comments. I promptly upheld my end of the deal, and deleted her... from my friends list, and from my life. Maybe it's for the better, but I doubt I'll ever get over this whole nightmare.