Have you ever felt like you could disappear?
When I was about probably 6 or 7, I gained consciousness and realized my m*m isn’t who I thought she was. She would yell about simple things like accidentally spilling milk on the counter and would hit me and my siblings for those simple mistakes anyone would do even at a grown age. The woman…
When I was about probably 6 or 7, I gained consciousness and realized my m*m isn’t who I thought she was. She would yell about simple things like accidentally spilling milk on the counter and would hit me and my siblings for those simple mistakes anyone would do even at a grown age.
The woman (I’ll call her that because it triggers me) would fight with my dad almost every day for coming home from work late and tired. Sometimes I wished I would simply kill her then and there.
As I grew, things just got worse. Even at the age of 13, I was still hit and mistreated. The woman would play victim when ever there were people at the house and would always tell then how much of bad children me and my siblings were. She would manipulate people and blame my dad, my siblings and me as abusive because we talked back and gave our opinions.
One morning the woman and I were home alone because I was feeling sick and couldn’t go to school. As I was laying in my room, she burst through the door and called me a lazy person. She said I was such a dissapointment and proceeded to hit me until my nose began to bleed. When she realized my nose was bleeding, she stopped and left. I ran to the bathroom(because it was the only room with locks) and locked the door.
I wanted to go away from there and kill that horrible person. I wanted to die. I was scared to fight back because then she’d use that as an excuse for me being abusive. After a few minutes I fell asleep in the tub. When I woke up, I had blood on my shirt because it had dropped down from my nose. As I stood up, the woman knocked at the door and asked if I was ok. She said she was sorry and acted as if she didn’t just beat me til I bled.
I told her I would only get out of the bathroom if she left me alone for the day. She said ok so I left and ran to my grandmothers house(she was my neighbor). When she asked about the dried blood on my shirt and face, I told her I fell down the stairs and hit my nose on the rail. I was too scared to tell her the truth thinking I was going to get in trouble.
After that day she would continuously beat me and blame me for being “abusive”. Years went by and I ran away from home at the age of 16. Now at age 17 I’m well and will never forget that horrible person.
