You squinted your eyes in the bright sun, holding a hand to shade your face while they adjusted to the light. The sky’s crisp clarity beckoned for you to walk to work today, and you wandered down the road with a spring in your step. The bustling business around you was distracting, and you ran directly into somebody on the sidewalk by mistake.

“Oh! Sorry,” you said, turning around to make sure they were alright. You paused mid-sentence, recognizing the face with displeasure. Your ex-boyfriend said your name, reaching his hand as though he wanted to grab for your arm. You pulled away, backing up so you were several feet in front of him. Turning on your feet, you began to run, desperate to disappear from his life once again.

When your relationship began, he seemed as charming and polite as any other guy. You admired his intelligence, and allowed yourself to open up to his pleasant personality. It didn’t take long for the charismatic façade to give away to his vicious nature. He belittled you at every opportunity, underlining his brutality with dark purple bruises on your shoulders and chest. Every effort you made to stand up to his violence lead to more savagery, and for a while you lived with the abuse. With the help of a concerned friend and the support of your family, you finally ran away from him, choosing to disappear instead of pursuing legal charges. Running into him was dangerous. For him to know where you lived and worked was frightening to you, and the thoughts were nagging and persistent as you tried to work.

You walked home again with caution in your step, scanning the streets with a paranoid gaze. A tall figure bumped into you again, and you jumped backwards with a soft cry of surprise. A pair of eyes stared into yours; scrutinizing you under the same glance you had grown to fear. The courage in your chest swelled, and you pushed him away from you with a heavy shove.

“Stay away from me! Just…leave me alone!” You turned away again, running frantically down the road to your apartment. When you entered the front door, you locked it and leaned against the wall, breathing heavily.

The next day you received an invitation from your boyfriend, asking if you would like to meet him at practice in his studio. The entertainment building was nearby, and for a moment you had completely forgotten about your perturbing encounter with your ex-boyfriend. You pulled your favorite shirt over your head, grabbing your cellphone and walking quickly out the door.

You were nearly to the company’s door when somebody grabbed your arm tightly. Before seeing the person’s face you knew it was your ex-boyfriend.

“I told you to leave me alone!” you said, shaking your arm in a desperate attempt to get away. He tightened his grasp, the force of his fingers on your shoulder bringing tears to your eyes. He pressed forcefully against your skin, red marks already blossoming around the points of pressure. “Leave me alone!” you yelled, finally able to pull away from his grasp. You ran frantically into the dance studio, dashing into your boyfriend’s arms with tears running from your eyes.

He and his band members exchanged confused glances as you tried to babble an explanation. Your boyfriend pulled gently away from your hug, examining the bruise already beginning to form on your arm.

“What happened?” You tried to describe what happened, through fearful sniffles and deep intakes of air. Eventually he and his group understood, walking with determined anger towards the door. Your boyfriend let you carefully along, keeping himself in front of you as they approached your ex-boyfriend. You glared at the sight of him. Had he been waiting for you outside again? With your sleeve you wiped away the tears, not wanting to offer him the satisfaction of your distress.

“You need to leave her alone,” one band member said, gesturing in your direction. “I mean it. Or the police are getting involved.” Your ex-boyfriend scoffed, still trying to uphold his dominant stature.

“That’s never stopped me before.” He looked at you with a gaze that sent a crawling sensation through your insides. “You’ll come back to me. I’m the only one willing to put up with the real you. You can’t get away from me so easily.” You stepped backwards, letting yourself hide behind your boyfriend’s tall frame.

You weren’t one to back down. Cowardice was your worst enemy, having led to an array of problems in your past. Even with your aversion to weakness, he continued to hold the prevailing power over you. Every time you stood up to his violence in the past, he pushed you down with literal aggression. You faced more injuries from you defiance, and were still learning to fight back against his delusions of authority.

Your boyfriend looked at you, as though he was offering you the chance to speak up. You stared back with anxiety in your eyes, and he understood. He stepped forward, grabbing your ex-boyfriend tightly by the wrist.

“Leave her alone. I mean it.” The words came forth with biting venom, as he looked down on the man with seething contempt. Your ex-boyfriend walked away with a shrug, but you knew he was shaken. As the group members turned away, you smirked at his retreating figure. He looked at you angrily, opening his mouth as though he wanted to speak. You laughed silently. During your relationship he would have slapped you for such impertinence, but you were untouchable. Finally, you had the upper hand.

Back in the practice room, your boyfriend placed both hands on your shoulders.

“If he comes back, I want you to tell me right away. And we’ll call the police. He’s never going to bother you again if I can help it.” One of his group members messed your hair affectionately.

“Exactly. You’re like my sister! We’ll protect you.” You smiled thankfully at them, a bright grin on your face.

“I love you guys,” you said, slapping another member gently on the arm as he joked with the others. Your boyfriend laughed at the groups antics, his arms still wrapped tightly around your waist. “I’m really grateful. For you and for all of you guys,” you said to him, your lips near his ear. He smiled.

“They’re like family. That’s what families are for.”