BEWARE
I thought he’d KILL me
Walking through the park, hand in hand, my heart soared.
‘Can I see you again?’ Chris, 37, asked, grinning.
It was last November, and we’d only met a few days before.
Chris Dwyer was a mate of an ex with whom I’d stayed friends. ‘I’d like that,’ I beamed. I knew that Chris had been in prison before, but hoped it was behind him.
Besides, I’d always had a bit of a thing for bad boys.
It was a whirlwind romance and, within weeks, we were inseparable. But, early on, I saw flashes of his temper.
He never directed it at me, though, and I felt safe, protected around him.
Until one day, he was rowing with a mate about money...
‘Stop!’ I cried, trying to calm Chris down. But, suddenly, his fist was flying towards me, and…
Thump!
I felt an explosion of agony and I stumbled backwards.
He punched me! I thought, absolutely stunned.
‘I’m sorry!’ Chris gasped, looking shocked, too.
‘I’ll hand myself in to the police,’ he said. ‘I deserve it.’
He looked so sorry, horrified at what he’d done.
‘No. I shouldn’t have got in the middle of it,’ I said, blaming myself. ‘Let’s forget it.’
Within hours, my eye was black and puffy. Ashamed, I hid the bruising under heavy make-up, convinced myself it was a one-off.
But Chris became jealous.
He’d accuse me of fancying my ex, flirting with male friends.
‘I’m not!’ I cried, promised I loved him.
‘Liar,’ he’d growl at me.
I thought once he realised that I loved him, he’d stop.
But, this February, he started another row. Again, he accused me of being in love with my ex, called me a slag. I stood up to him. ‘Stop being so jealous, I’ve had enough!’ I cried.
Then Chris lost it, launched himself at me, pulling me to the ground by my hair, fists flying.
‘Stop, please!’ I begged, fighting back.
Pulling myself to my feet, I ran for the door. I live opposite a hospital, so I sprinted across the road to safety.
Staff there called the police.
Chris followed me, was arrested.
A few days later, at Liverpool Magistrates Court, Christopher Dwyer was jailed for seven weeks for assault and breaching a domestic-violence prevention order.
‘It’s over,’ I told my mates, determined to move on.
Chris wrote to me from behind bars, but I tore up the letters without reading them.
Only, shortly after his release he knocked at my door... ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. He looked pathetic, lost – desperate for forgiveness.
I felt sorry for him. My head said no, but my heart melted, told me to give him another chance. So I did. But it wasn’t long before his violent temper re-emerged.
One night in July, we were in bed and Chris was messing around, hogging the mattress. ‘Move over, will you?’ I laughed. But he exploded in rage, screaming and shouting.
Suddenly he grabbed me in a bear hug, squeezing hard.
‘You’re hurting me!’ I cried, pushing him away.
His fists flew again, pounding my head and body.
As I struggled with him, he put a blanket over my head. I couldn’t move and was struggling to breathe.
‘I’m going to kill you now!’ he roared, furious.
He is – I’m going to die!
I panicked.
Terrified, I managed to get free, made a break for it.
‘Don’t call the police,’ Chris shouted as I fled.
Racing out of the front door, I ran to a payphone to call 999.
But Chris followed and caught me. He grabbed my hair, threw me to the ground, kicking and punching me.
Screaming and petrified, I fought back, and managed to escape, running to a YMCA shelter a few minutes away.
‘Help me!’ I cried, banging on the door.
Shocked staff let me in and, seeing my swollen, red eye, they kept Chris at bay outside as they called the police.
‘I’m sorry, I just lost it,’ Chris told an officer when they arrived.
Too little, too late, I thought, sobbing, shaking and in agony.
The next day, at Liverpool Magistrates Court, Dwyer, 37, pleaded guilty to assaulting me.
His lawyer said Dwyer was suffering side effects to a mixture of medication he took for severe leg burns.
He said it left him with physical and mental difficulties, hearing voices.
But that’s no excuse for violently assaulting
His fists flew again, pounding my head and body
a defenceless woman.
Dwyer was jailed for just 12 weeks and ordered to pay me £150 compensation, plus he got a two-year restraining order against me. ‘Is that it?’ I gasped. The court was told Dwyer had 36 convictions for 66 offences on his record.
Worse, he’d served three prison sentences for domestic violence since 2015 – including the first against me.
It was clear he was a danger to women. Yet each time he was jailed for just weeks.
Pathetic – and Dwyer obviously thought so, too.
‘Yeah, nice one,’ he sneered as he was led to the cells.
Disgusting.
Now I’m terrified he’ll ignore the restraining order and find me when he’s released. I’m planning on moving. But it’s his next girlfriend I feel sorry for – I’ve no doubt he’ll do it again.
With such pathetic sentences, it’s clear he’ll never learn his lesson.