I had moved here about 2 years ago with my husband. And still I haven't made a single friend. John wouldn't allow me. I don't blame him.He needs a woman like me to support him with his new job and to keep up with tidying the house. My only friend was the canvas in the basement. In my spare time I paint. I paint pictures of John because he only allows me to paint him. Although he never just sits in front of the canvas. He doesn't allow me to paint him creatively. One time I painted him nude. He tore the painting in half and yelled at me. That time he didn't hit me as hard. "Catherine get me a beer out the fridge!" John yelled while coming through oak wooden door. I fetched him a cold beer outb the fridge quickly like he instructed me. As I went to go give him his beer, I looked out the glass window. It was a lot darker than I thought it was. It might already be 7 o clock. I guess John and I will just have to eat leftovers. " Here you go, dear. A cold Heinekin." I said as I delivered him the beer. He drunk two big gulps and gave a distasteful look. He placed the beer on the coffeetable next to the neon green couch he was sitting on. He grabbed my wrist tightly and made me climb on top of him. I was facing him and my legs were semi wrapped around his waist. "Honey its not a good night for making love. I'm on my period and a storm might be coming tonight." I said trying to convince him. He says he doesn't care. I fake a laugh and start to climb off. He pulls me hard back down and.digs his sharp nails in my pail skin. I throw my head back in pain. I make a noise that he mistakes as a moan. He thinks I like This. I hate it. But he keeps doing it. It hurts so much thatb I decide to let him love me.