19 and I don't remember

When I was younger, around 19 or so, I dated this girl.  We will call her CW. At some point in the relationship I told her that I was going to go look for Breanna and try to make things work with her. This is when things got really bad.

I am not sure and it doesn't really make a whole lot of sense but I stayed with her after that for a period of time that I can't recall.  It doesn't make sense because I told her that I was leaving. Anyway, at one point she accused me of raping her. Called the cops and the whole works. This was a bogus claim and later in life she even said so. She said that she was in love with someone else and rather then just simply break things off with me, and move on with him, she called rape.

I got out of jail and went back home. CW called me up one day and asked me to come over so that she could apologize. Again, naive, I agreed and went over. She turned out to be home alone. This should have been a red flag to me. It wasn't. She took me into her bedroom and like a little lost stupid puppy I went. We were talking and all of a sudden one guy jumps out of the closet and another out of the room across the hall.

I started freaking. I had to have. I don't remember their faces but I can remember there silhouette's. They were big guys.  Lineman in football size. I am sure that I freaked out.

I was held down and from what I remember each took turns beating me. CW doing the most damage. At some point I started convulsing and they stopped. Then out of the goodness of their own hearts they called 911.  I remember getting out of the house and running, if you can call it that, from there house, down the short but curvy driveway, to the freeway, and down the road into town. I know I tripped and fell many time. At one point I saw the ambulance pass me with lights on going to where I just left. Moments, what seemed like days, I passed out. But not before seeing the ambulance again.

They either saw me and turned around or got to the house and turned around when CW and the guys told them I had left. I don't know and frankly don't care.

I spent some time healing and getting better. My physical injuries did finally heal and I am no worse off for them. But something else was injured in all of this. I suffer memory loss and PTSD from it.  I can't have my back to the wall of any door or the majority of the people in the room like at a restaurant unless it's a booth with a high back. Other things bother me as well.

My biggest issue is the memory loss.  You may have noticed that there is a lot of this story that simpy isn't included. No, I'm not trying a new writing style of being, not so forthcoming, about these events. I simply don't remember them and I have to piece what I remember, together, with what I am told and try to make a solid picture out of it.

Unfortunetely, I have a puzzle with a picture of the white house and I am afraid that I will never have all the piece to see the west wing. 

This is what she took from me. CW can never give me back my memories of anything that she took. Of the memory of being beaten, I can live without that. But she took something so much more valuable to me than that, she took my previous memories of Breanna from me and for that she deserves to rot in hell for her entire existence. She took my early childhood from me. It was already destroyed by my father and mother. It was burned, when our trailer with all our pictures caught on fire, it was taken when my father killed my step-mother, raped my step-sister, and molested my brother, sister and me. It was imprisoned right beside my father when he was incarcerated for murder and got off with a lesser charge.  Involuntary manslaughter I believe.

It walked out, when my mother gave us all up for adoption and to this day says that she simply couldn't do it.

I have already been beaten, bruised, chewed up, and spit out enough times in my life by this point. CW took what remaining strength I had left, what will power I had to go on, what character I sill possessed and beat it out of me, then stole all the memories of everything else.

I am tired of being scared to be in a crowded room or to go up to someone and say hi cause I am afraid of the charges i will face. Unfounded as that may be, it's a fear.