Surviving the Dark

By Heather Holler

This book is a compelling story designed to help anyone who has been or still is being victimized by someone close to them. It is not only a story of tragedy but also of triumph. As a survivor of domestic violence, the author has designed a simple map to help others to not only escape from this epidemic but to overcome the fear of speaking out.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jul 17, 2017
• ISBN: 9781635683363

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Surviving the Dark

Heather Holler

Copyright © 2017 Heather Holler

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING, INC.

New York, NY

First originally published by Page Publishing, Inc. 2017

ISBN 978-1-63568-335-6 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-63568-336-3 (Digital)

Printed in the United States of America

The story of my uncanny life, it all began so simple. I had a great childhood, great parents, a great home, and a great big talent that I wanted nothing to do with. I don’t think that I ever understood what it meant to be me, and to this day, I still haven’t grasped the concept or known how much power I have of my own destiny. And I don’t even know why I said that because I know what it is that I must do. I know why I was put here on this earth, in this life, and why all the things that have happened to me had occurred. Now before I get really in depth and down to the nitty gritty, I must say that my story is pretty graphic, and I will probably have to stop few times to catch my breath. I only hope and pray that I can tell the whole story and not forget a single detail because it is so vital for me to get this out.

I am alive, and for once, I can feel that there is a reason my life was spared. Only God can answer and tell you all why, but at the moment, I feel so compelled to tell my story of life, love, compassion, fear, strength, justice, and peace to heal anyone and everyone who has been wounded. It’s like I have been in battle, and in a way, I was. They say when you make a deal with the devil, there is no turning back. But what they don’t tell you is that when you’re staring the devil himself in the face, your life is pretty much over. You only have one choice, to die. I chose to live, and I am alive today to tell you about it all.

Up to this present sunny Monday morning, I still don’t have an answer as to why I was put in this situation to begin with, and I never knew how strong I was until I was forced to get my life back.

Okay, so here I am in New Orleans, Louisiana, and I just can’t seem to focus on anything except making a lot of money and saving it all. I started writing this in February, and now it’s July 1! Well, all I can say is that I’m growing, evolving, and changing every single day. And for the better, I might add. I’ve become kinder, more giving and open to new chapters. It’s been such a bumpy road that I can’t even describe but hope to.

So here it is. A few months have gone by, I’d say, about six to be exact. The problem is not that I have nothing to write, I just lack the motivation. My abuser is now in jail again, and he is facing a few more years in jail, if not prison. I’m not really sure how I feel. Safe? Relieved? Scared for him or just oblivious? But this is what I do know. I am really disinterested in finding a new mate. It has been so long since I have felt the need to have people in my life. I don’t trust anyone, and he is to blame. I don’t know what to call it, and I’m not sure if it’s unhealthy. But for some odd reason, I can only get my thoughts out when I’ve been up all night, and it’s now 10:00 a.m. And after watching countless episodes of The Hills, I know that I definitely can never go back to that life.

God, my life was filled with a bunch of fakes. Did that make me fake? Probably. Oh well, at least I can admit it. Where to start? Where to begin? Hmmmmmm.

I met him in Hollywood California, home of the fakes, wannabe actors and singers, the druggies and the drunks, and all that lies between. I guess my life was a mess before he weaseled his way in, and I can’t really blame that on the lava rock from Kauai. God put him there for a reason, a very painful and valuable reason, and if I did not value my life then, I most definitely do now.

And, ladies, this book is mostly for you and anyone who has been through a horrific experience and came out triumphant. I applaud you. So let’s get right to it, shall we?

I was, at a very young age, a writer, a piano player, but most of all, a composer. I began writing little ditties on the piano when I was five. Who knew that it would be the epicenter of all my light, my darkness, my pain, my defeat, and yet my salvation. I had no clue what I was doing, but my parents had high hopes for me. So at a young age, I was robbed of my childhood in a way because I was gifted. I was always attending different private lessons and schools and never really socializing with normal kids. And I guess you could say I was a prima donna and a brat. I figured that since I was so talented, I could do whatever I wanted. And I did. And everyone hated me for it. I hated school. I never wanted to go or study or participate in activities because I had other things on my mind, so I was alienated by the other kids. Well, by the time I was thirteen, I was really a brat and thought nothing other than of myself until the night my father committed suicide. You see, I was enrolled in Carnegie Mellon University’s underage program and was performing classical compositions, and it was all starting to wear me down. After all, I was a kid and just wanted to fit in. I was in a Catholic school where the kids were so cruel and mean that I was very uncomfortable with myself, it was more than just about teenage insecurity. And parents, if you’re reading this, beware that these private schools can be brutal!

One night, I came home from my first day of eighth grade to cry to my father that I wanted to quit playing and have a normal life, but the kids didn’t like me. He shot himself that night in our backyard. I found him. My whole life changed, and although you may think my first response should have been shock and pain, I was calm, collected, and I knew I had to comfort my mom and sister. It was like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. My sister was devastated and my mom just sobbed, so I had to be strong for them or else we would’ve all been in trouble. I’ll never forget how I felt that day or how they cried.

After that, my teenage years were a blur—drinking, smoking, experimenting, and sex. I know my mom will kill me when she reads this, but I didn’t care anymore at that time. It wasn’t until we sold the house and moved to California that things really got bad. We had been taken from all we knew and had to start over.

Luckily, we had family there, and they showed us the way, but their way of life and ours were very different. My mom was very strict, and they could do whatever they wanted, so I ran away a lot. I started hanging out with gang members and getting really drunk and high with my fourteen-year-old cousin. That did not last long. I got jumped a few times by five boys at once at one point, and my life was not getting better. We even stole a car once to go joy riding. My cousin was fourteen! I was seventeen. It wasn’t until one night she invited me to go on a road trip and I didn’t want to go that it all changed. Later that evening, I got a call that she had been shot in the face with a sawed off shotgun. Her face was blown completely off. I was so sad. But I knew. I knew not to go. That’s when I stopped playing around with my life and graduated from high school.

College was a blur. I enrolled in a community college to study commercial music, and it took me six years to finish. I just wasn’t into it. No inspiration, numb from all the marijuana and alcohol. It was just the normal thing to do in California. So there I was, doing nothing good with my life and bored to death, attending community college and still living at home, I might add. I have a wonderful relationship with my mom. She is one the most inspiring people I know, and she is also the only person in the world that has my complete trust. It’s been a rocky road, but we have all made it through. My sister and I have always been close, but when my father died, it all changed. When we moved to California, we went our own ways, and she was very distant from us. I can’t say that I really blame her. She was exploring who she was and where she wanted to be.

Meanwhile, I was dating a gangster who sold drugs and was a local badass. Nothing good could have come from that, but I liked the thrill. I guess we all do stupid things in our twenties to find out who we really are. So I started exploring different avenues to fame. I knew I wanted it, but how to attain it? I joined a band and started singing on a regular basis, recorded a few songs onto a demo, and discovered that I truly enjoyed the recording process. So I researched and stumbled upon the Los Angeles Recording Workshop. And it was a tech school that taught people like me to be recording engineers, and it provided housing in the heart of North Hollywood, so I was sold. I was twenty-six and about to venture out into the wild for the first time in my life. It was the most exciting time of my life. I had so much to learn, so much to share, and I had no clue what would come of me. And I went. Now keep in mind that the male ratio to women was 50 to 1. In a class of thirty-five men, there were two chicks, me and