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Erin Grace

Monday, February 6, 2012


"K" was very much into martial arts. He loved martial arts movies and he loved practicing his moves. What he found most entertaining was to practice his moves on me, his reasoning was, I was "helping" him so he could  practice using it in "real life" situations. There's nothing like a kick or a punch that comes within an inch (sometimes closer) of your body, especially your face, to get your attention. How he didn't manage to hit me, I'll never know. He was very strong. When he was angry at me or "S", he would suddenly throw a kick or punch at us when we least expected it. Even just for the hell of'd turn around and a foot or a hand would be flying in your face, then he'd laugh a crazy laugh and show his insane looking smile. His eyes just looked as if he'd completely lost it.

"K" decided he needed a dog. A pit bull, to be exact. His name was Max. The quest to "make Max mean", began. Considering what that dog went through, it was a miracle how sweet he remained.

One afternoon, I went out to see what "K" was doing with Max. He had the leash tied to the back of his motorcycle and he was riding it, while Max ran along behind. "K" began to go faster and Max was having a hard time keeping up. Finally, Max became too tired and couldn't keep up with the motorcycle any longer. He began yelping and putting all of his leg strength into locking up his front legs and trying to stop. His paws just slid along the gravel. I ran to keep up, grabbing at Max and trying to release him. "K" just went faster and angrily yelled, "He's gotta learn to keep up, leave him alone! He'll toughen up" I was furious and crying and neighbors were staring. GOOD. At one point, the bike was going so fast that Max was just dragging behind it and tumbling around and around, like a tin can. "K" finally stopped as I kept running and screaming at him. I untied Max and took him back to the apartment. His paws were all scraped and bloody, as well as his body. From then on, "S" and I tried to look out for Max as much as we could.

"K" was pissed at my mouthiness. He chased me out of the apartment after I rescued Max. I was scared to go back, so I didn't. It was one of many times that I rode my bicycle for hours along the lake that we lived by and then I'd go wander around the cemetery next to our apartment. The cemetery was actually a beautiful place and I spent a lot of time there. I ended up sleeping under a tree in there that night, until he came out and convinced me to come back in...but I had to apologize. Unfortunately, when I stood up to him, he'd take his fury out on "S". He'd hit her and threaten her, as punishment to me. She was very tiny. No match for his strength. I once witnessed him pick her up over his head and throw her across the room. He said I needed to shut up because look what was happening to her.

"K" never seemed to worry that anyone witnessed his anger. He caught me and his sister (who was my age and terrified of him, as well) talking to a boy out our window one night. As soon as we heard "K" coming, we told the boy to run or we would all be in big trouble. "K" was furious. He told us to stay put and went out to talk to the boy. He started yelling at him and then chased him down the street screaming that he would kill him if he ever talked to us again. Then "K" came back to deal with us. We were "sneaky" and "slutty". His sister confided in me, later that night. She said that when he lived at home, he had punched her and almost broken her nose and threw her down a flight of stairs.

If "K" didn't get what he wanted, he did what he wanted. He made a scene in the local mall one day because he was banned due to an incident, years before. He screamed at the security guards and challenged them, only to be hauled out by the police. "S" and I just sat there, humiliated.

"K" would even chase people with his car, while they were on foot. He chased me in the parking lot of a local park one day, people just stood there and stared. He had a black Ford Escort and he chased me as far as he could before I ran behind a parked car, then a tree, then he quickly turned the car around, spitting gravel as he went. No one did anything. Years later, at a court hearing, he got angry and lunged over the tables. Before the guards could grab him, he grabbed the judge around the throat.

As much as I fought with "K", he had me mesmerized and terrified of him. He was so dangerous and destructive but "protective" of me. I was special. I began to side with him against "S". I also couldn't bear the thought of going back with my parents. After everything with my parents, especially my father, sad to say, I was very taken with "K". "S" tried to talk to people to get help, she couldn't count on me though. She didn't get far. The social worker who lived below us, blew her off. Maybe she was scared of him too. She said she suspected something was going on and she heard things but she never would help.

 "K's" family would not help. Absolutely not. His father was a police officer in our city.


  1. Oh God, I cannot stand to hear about animals being hurt. I wish Max had attacked him.

  2. He was the best dog. Eventually he went to live with another family member and their children. They'd ride on his back and pull his tail and he never so much as growled at anyone. He's even in their old family photos. :)