Why

Who do you turn to when the people who gave you life betray you? Who do you have to turn to then? Your dog, God, the neighbors who obviously don't want to mingle in your personal life, the childhood imaginary friend, the school teacher who just ignores your bruises and welts? No, none of them you turn on yourself. The hardest thing about all of this is that no matter who you talk to, what you do to block out the memories, how well you press on with life after the abuse is done, you will always remember the exact emptiness you felt looking into your parents eyes. How they were so hollow and empty filled with nothing but pure hate. You will always remember.

To this day I can clearly visualize the first time you struck me. I don't remember the reason but the action is permanently embed in my memory. The sound of your footsteps was at a pace I've never heard before. When you slammed open my door, I turned around with a curios look on my face. You suddenly grabbed me and fear shocked my whole body, a feeling that became a sort of comfort the next several years to pass. You slapped me and all I felt was the tears roll down my face, the sinking feeling in my gut and the blood rushing to the area.

You on the other hand were heaving like you had just ran a mile down the road to get here at this exact moment. When you left my room I sat there confused and crying. My father did nothing but sit in his chair and act like nothing happened. I was six and all I wonder now even to this day is what is so bad to make you strike a six year old so fiercely.

I was born the middle child so in a way I was born cursed. My brother was to young to understand my torture and my sisters never spoke a word of it to me. to be quite honest my older sister joined in the torture of my life. My father would enter the room and continue to feed me empty promises. He would tell me that mommy didn't mean it that she won't do it again. I sat and listened because my father was God to me and my mother was the Devil.

The abuse never seemed to end and when you're a child being naive is golden. I honestly thought that what I was experiencing was normal. Like most kids that suffer through this, I had no friends growing up. My older sister made that perfectly clear. The school children would call me names and make fun of my wardrobe. My sister would protest that I was adopted and sometimes I wished for that to be true. Through out my elementary school life I had been absent for nearly a year due to the graphic nature of my mothers harsh cruelty. I never went to the hospital for my injuries because she knew what she was doing was criminal. The worst part about it is that she was not a drug addict nor an alcoholic. She had no history of on going psychical abuse or rape. She hit me and she knew exactly what she was doing and how it would affect me later in life.

Congratulations mom are you happy now?

The scars and fractures of my skin and bones are all that remain now. After years of abuse you did the kindness thing for me in the entire world at the tender age of eleven. You took me to go live with you even if it was short lived. I knew you were sick but being so young I thought you would live forever. You didn't live forever you died three months before my fourteenth birthday. I prayed for death, but you prayed for life. I returned to my mother's house when half a year later I snapped.

It started off like everyday in your house getting ready for school. However this time you left her behind. My older sister, she attacked me and all the suppressed anger got the best of me. I beat up my own flesh and blood to the point that at the police station they took photos of her bruises and scars. At the police station you don't have a name, you don't have freedom anymore, no one speaks to you or notices that your there, you're another case file. it took a month for my court hearing and in the decision of the courts and you mother I was sent to live in a group home or better known as placement. It was bad enough that my father died less than a month ago but you had to take away my freedom and ability to be a normal sensed teenager as well. The group homes I lived in were not as bad as some, but to call a friend from school, to hang out after school, stand in your own front yard was stripped from me. I didn't get a chance to date boys or go to a birthday party when invited. I was labeled the foster care kid.

When you're a teenager you desperately want to fit in and I stuck out worse than a sore thumb. You visited me because the therapy required you to patch things up with me. I know you still hate me for it. Telling a total stranger with the power to take away your other children your dirty secret. After a year I ran away when they let you have me back. Or that's what you told the probation officer when he called looking for me. You kicked me out and I slept at the Slauson Station in South Central. My friends were the only people looking after me. I got deathly sick from all the drugs I did because I was afraid to sleep at night and had to turn myself in if not I would have died on those streets. You didn't care, I called the house asking for my sister and you didn't even recognize my voice.

Two years later I drove myself insane and ended up at the lovely Metropolitan state hospital. Along with the other disposable damaged teenagers. There I didn't speak a word of the abuse for I just wanted to be free again. it took me nine months to successfully leave that place. The time there; well that's another story I don't wish to get into. I'm just glad its in the past. Three months later I was back at your house and again you kicked me out. This time I ran like no one else I was gone for three months the happiest three months o f my drug, party, crazy sex induced life.

At the age of seventeen I went to the girls juvenile camp. A short period of time of course the summer break. I left that place as a platoon leader and graduated high school on time. Actually I only attend two years of high school but I graduated with a diploma.

I dealt with your insanities for two months after my eighteenth birthday. After which I moved from friends houses to friends houses and all I want from you before you die is to tell me why?