In early 1996, Lee and I moved to an upper flat where I got my own bedroom. I put my twin bed in there (mattress and boxspring on the floor), along with my desk and my radio. I painted the room blue and lived a happy little life there. Lee was dating a guy we knew from high school named David. David had always seemed to be just another kid, not a complete nerd but not a jock or a popular kid either. He just sort of blended in. After high school, he was accused of murdering his then girlfriend. He never told anyone whether or not he had actually done it, though he was acquitted of the crime. Apparently she had fallen down the stairs (or something) after a heated argument was heard by the neighbors. David seemed like a level headed guy, but given his possible history I wasn't so keen on getting to know him. Lee was absolutely infatuated with him. His general attitude was that of total detachment, eyes always half lidded, oozing with dark charisma. Lee and David were always fighting or making up. David had found God, and disapproved of Lee's vibrator and porn collection. Lee said David was trying to control her, and marched to his house drunk waving a dirty magazine. Lee would become outraged and charge at David. He would hold her back and bruise her arms. She cried to her mother and filed a restraining order against him.
"He beats me, Jen. He threw me against a wall."
"I think he's seeing someone else, I'll kill her. I love him so much."
"Jen, I really hate him."
The whole ordeal made her mother absolutely frantic. Don't talk to him, she would tell me. He's evil, I swear he just exudes evil... And I would tell Lee that if she really hated him, if she really felt threatened, she should stop fucking him. Unfortunately, it took more than feelings to make her stop.