I met Patricia in September 1991. I had just turned 21-years old. She was so serious and was not having any of my mess, and I tried to give it to me. She didn't appreciate it an told me just that, and ofcourse we became fast friends. I found out her boyfriend was an aquaintance named Paul McDougal. He was working for Budweiser at the time, and I had known his bestfriend for a little while, and that's how we had met. He was a nice guy, so I thought, until she showed up on my doorstep at one in the morning. She had walked to my house from their apartment about three miles away. I spoke to him the next day and he reassured me that they would work it out and that Patricia was just being silly and dealing with their twins and her son all day was causing her to have some kind of mental breakdown, but they would work through it. I was satified and he picked her up and I thought the situation was over. One day while we were talking and I was telling her how ungrateful she was, she finally confessed that Paul beat her. She's Puerto Rican and has long flowing hair that she cut off, because he used it to beat her. She said that every time she tried to run away, he would grab her hair and wrap his hands around it and beat her in the face. She was so beuatiful that it broke my heart. She told me that when we met that he would have beaten her, but she would cover the bruises with make-up.
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My mother would alwys say, "There is something wrong with that girl!" She was really doing bad. She said the first time he beat her she was four months pregnant with their twin boys. She knew she was having twins at two months. She had her first ultrasound and had two little peas on the screen. She placed the ultrsound picture on the refridgerator when she had moved in. We went on as friends, we were still working at the clothing store I met her at in Bloomfield Hills. I never saw any bruises or anything, and could dismiss her confession. But then she got his passwards to his work voicemail. She would check it and after a while she would have me check it. Paul was seeing about three other women. He went to different bars in Oakland County selling taps. He would meet women at those bars and start relationships with them. He would also take the "Bud Girls" out at night and had quite the night life, while she stayed home with the kids. He was a piece of work and would tell her he was at OU studying for his test. The test was the civil service exam for the Pontiac Police Deparment. She didn't tell me he was getting a job with the police until he made his last stand. I had told her not to confront him about the woman in Southfield TGIF. I told him that he would blame her, because she was his escape from her and the kids. She didn't believe me and she confronted him one day and he beat her.
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He beat her in the face so bad that her entire face was red. By the time I saw it, it was pink. He had bruised her arms so bad that they were black and purple. She had raised her shirt and I saw her back. He had kicked her with his shoes on. She had these triangles on her back from the tips of his shoes and their impact on her back. I couldn't believe a man would do such a thing to a woman that he loved. Obviously, he didn't love her. He used her as a punching bag, and didn't even like her. She said that one night they were having rough sex and her son came banging on the door screaming, "What are you doing to my Mommy!!!" He was very awar that he was abusing her and once even tried to help her. When she finally left after that last beating he asked to take him. She had given him their two children, because she was so broken. Paul and his family always tried to make Patricia seem like a horrible person. Once his cousin told me, "Paul would never let her raise those kids!" I looked at her like she was crazy. He was never home. I think I was there more than he was in their waken hours. The most time he spent at home was when he slept. So, in reality, she was raising them.
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I regret her choice, because she told him she had showed me! In 2002, he brought me up on a bogus stalking charge. I spent four years in prison because of it. You can't say how, because how do women get off of murder by prostituting in jail. This is all true. My book is also true. It is on Amazon, read it
Jell: A True Story
