The Abuser’s Friend

Warning this story displays graphic content and depictions of violence.

I also do Graphic work I hope you enjoy these images

I had a friend, let’s call him Freddy. Freddy’s girlfriend’s used to call me. A lot. Freddy hardly ever had a phone so he always used mine. He hardly ever had a car for very long so I would give him rides. So it makes sense that I’m the friend they would call, even though the only contact we would make is when they opened their door to release Freddy to my custody. Thinking back on it I felt like a mom picking their son up from a sleepover. Basically, the guy was helpless although he was granted many opportunities to excel he never capitalized. I felt sorry for him. Always bouncing from girl to girl and job to job, I wanted to help him. The thing is he didn’t want to be better, he wanted those around him to baby him, I failed to see this.

Like I said his girlfriend’s would call me. They would ask about his past relationships and why he gets to acting so weird. I would shrug it off mostly. Not because I didn’t care but because I didn’t understand.

Freddy would always be asking for verification of the women he would see. He would show me pictures and ask, “What do you think?” I would reply just to satisfy his intrigue, I learned quickly that if my answer didn’t meet his desires he would become defensive. “What’s…