BLAMED as he BIT AND BEAT ME
Thug fella said that I’d ruined his night...
Slipping his hands around my waist, my boyfriend kissed me on the cheek.
It was September 2014, and I’d just started dating Jack Caldwell, then 19.
We’d met through friends and had really hit it off. Jack knew all the right things to say.
‘He’s lovely,’ I told my parents Jillian and Gary.
But things started moving quickly…
Just a month into our relationship, Jack fell out with his dad.
With nowhere to stay, he moved into my parents’ place.
Then, that October, my period was late – and a pregnancy test confirmed it.
Jack and I hadn’t planned to have a baby, but foolishly we’d not taken any precautions.
We were both excited, but I didn’t tell Mum and Dad.
I knew they’d be upset because Jack and I hadn’t been together long.
Then, a few weeks later, I was at home when I began bleeding.
When it didn’t stop, I went to see my GP.
‘I’m afraid you’ve had a miscarriage,’ she confirmed.
I felt numb, my head was a mess.
‘I’ve lost the baby,’ I told Jack later that night.
‘Right…’ he said, not showing much emotion.
In fact, he seemed more interested in going out with his mates. Leaving me at home, he met them down the pub.
Then he started sending me abusive texts. You’re worthless, he sent, and called me names. I didn’t understand it. How could Jack be so vile after I’d just miscarried our baby?
‘You just brought out the worst in me,’ he said the next morning, making excuses.
But, over the next few months, Jack continued to be verbally abusive. He even stopped me from seeing my friends.
‘Nobody wants you,’ he sneered. ‘I’m all you’ve got.’
By now, I was so under his spell, I believed him.
Even my mum and dad couldn’t get through to me.
‘You can do so much better,’ Mum told me.
She and Dad hated Jack, told him to move out.
So he moved in with his nan.
It wasn’t enough to make me see sense, though, and I carried on seeing him.
But Jack made me feel so low, I ended up doing the unthinkable…
One day, I took an overdose of pills, just wanted to end things.
Mum found me up in my room, sobbing, and called an ambulance. Thankfully, I was OK. Still, stupidly and without Mum and Dad knowing, I carried on seeing Jack.
As rubbish as he made me feel, somehow, he had a hold over me.
Soon, I got my own place and Jack moved in with me.
My parents were so disappointed about it that we drifted a bit. Spoke less… I felt more alone than ever. Over the next year, Jack and I constantly argued. ‘Nobody else will want you,’ he’d tell me. Jack drained every last bit of confidence from me. I barely left the house and, whenever I did, it was always with him. In April this year, he took me to a nightclub to meet his friends. He left me sitting at a table while he enjoyed himself on the dancefloor. ‘Stop leaving me on my own,’ I told him later. ‘You’re ruining my night!’ Jack shouted angrily, losing his temper straightaway. Back at home, Jack cornered me in the kitchen. Screaming at me, he kicked a
As rubbish as he made me feel, he had a hold over me
can of beer in my face.
I tried to move past him in the hallway.
But as I did, he punched me in the head.
‘You hurt me first,’ he shouted.
My face throbbing, I ran upstairs in tears.
But Jack followed and sat on top of me on the bed.
Then he poured a whole bottle of Cactus Jack schnapps over my head.
‘Stop!’ I cried, drenched in booze.
Then he grabbed my phone and ran off with it, so I chased him into the living room. ‘Give it back!’ I cried. But Jack just laid into me, biting and punching me hard. Next, he grabbed my throat and squeezed.
‘You started this,’ he snarled at me.
Somehow I found the strength to push him off, and he skulked away. When I caught a glimpse of my face in the mirror, though, I was absolutely distraught.
It was battered, bruised and swollen. I looked unrecognisable. And, in that moment, something inside me just clicked.
This can’t go on any more, I realised.
So I packed a bag and ran from the house.
It was 7am, and I could see a woman in a bakery down the road.
She kindly took me in and phoned my dad.
When he arrived to get me, he looked horrified.
‘What has that monster done to you?’ he asked, hugging me close.
He drove me straight to the police station, where I gave a statement to officers. Then I was taken to the hospital.
There, doctors told me that my mouth brace had been broken in the attack. It’d caused my jaw to swell. I also had countless cuts, bruises and bite marks.
Thankfully, other than that, I was OK.
Hours later, the police told me that Jack had been arrested and remanded.
It was a relief, knowing he couldn’t hurt me. But he’d left me a nervous wreck.
In July, Jack Caldwell, 21, appeared at Kilmarnock Sheriff Court.
He pleaded guilty to assault causing injury, and was jailed for 18 months and given a two-year nonharassment order.
It’s not enough for the years of abuse I suffered.
It took every ounce of courage to report him, and I feel so let down.
I can’t let him win, though. That monster may have drained my confidence, beaten me physically.
But what doesn’t kill me will only make me stronger.
When Dad arrived to get me, he looked horrified