In January we got evicted because we didnt pay the rent. Why? you may ask,

                            I felt so trapped I had no friends and no one I could talk to.  I couldnt talk to his
                            parents because they thought the sun rises and sets in his backside.

                            We moved into another Caravan park, finally I thought we could have a decent
                            roof over our heads, and he got a job. He wouldnt let me work because it was "the
                            mans duty". I thought maybe because he had a job it would keep him busy and he
                            might forget about hitting me for a while....little did I know things were about to
                            take a turn for the worse.

                            I would have dinner ready for him when he came home, there was always something
                            wrong, too hot, too cold, too tough, too soft, too salty, not salty enough and so on,
                            so every night without fail, his punching routine would happen, I forced myself
                            to tune out and try answer the questions on Sale of the Century, trying to block out
                            what was really happening.

                            After a while he started coming home less and less and then after a while he stopped
                            coming home all together, except for the night of our six month anniversary. He
                            came home, I was really happy to see him, I cooked dinner , I even had a present for
                            him for our anniversary. Everything was fine for a change he ate his meal, jumped
                            in the shower and clinbed into bed. He decided that he was going to put in the
                            diamond earring stud that I bought him for our anniversary, he couldnt get the other
                            earring out, so he grabbed the pliers off the top of the television and tried to pull the
                            butterfly clip undone, he pinched his ear instead, it must have hurt him because he
                            stood up turned to me with the pliers extended from his fist and punched me over
                            and over and overo and over again in the stomach, I was in agony, I couldnt breathe
                            I managed to lock myself in the bathroom, I could hear him cursing and carrying on
                            and then I heard the door slam, and he was gone. I looked down at myself and saw
                            the blood soaking through my shirt, I lifted my shirt to see what was wrong, I was
                            already numb, upon lifting my shirt I found seven puncture marks where he obviously
                            hit me with the pliers in his fist and one large bruise on my left breast. I couldnt
                            beleive it , but I had learned to dismiss these things and cleaned up the blood and
                            went to bed.
 

                            For days he didnt come home. He left me with no money and not one ounce of food
                            in the house, on a Thursday night I remember I started getting very
                            bad abdominal cramps and noticed some spotting which I thought was unusual
                            because I wasnt due for my period for ages (I only got them once every 2-3 months)
                            I took some Aspirin and went to bed. About 3.00am the  cramps hit me again only
                            a thousand times worse, I sat up the rest of the night clutching my stomach, I couldnt
                            call anyone and I couldnt walk to the phone because the pain was too great. About
                            8.00am I managed to get the strength to get dressed and I walked very very
                            slowly to the doctors surgery which was 8 kilometers away because the bleeding
                            had worsened. It was 38 degrees celcius the middle of summer, by the time I got
                            to the doctors the blood was sticking to my legs and flies were buzzing around
                            because of the smell. I walked into the doctors surgery and collapsed. I awoke in the
                            procedures room and an Indian looking doctors was looking at me, he told me what
                            had happened because I was still feeling vague, I asked him why I was bleeding like
                            that , what I was to hear next was like driving a razor blade into my ears. The doctor
                            told me that I was six weeks pregnant and that I had just suffered a miscarriage. I
                            did not even know I was pregnant, finding out that I was pregnant and lost the baby
                            all at once may has well have been someone murdering me. The doctor had told me
                            that it was caused by massive abdominal trauma (refering the the marks on my
                            stomach & abdomin). Not only was Freddie responsible for hurting me but now
                            he was responsible for the death of my unborn child.