Chapter 7

Life is now a living hell, more than it already was. The man I saw as my protector, my hero, my savior, is gone. I could always hear Mother and Father arguing, and I always was brought into it. I knew that when Father left, it was all my fault…I hated him more than my own dreadful life for leaving me here with that..that bitch. He left me here to suffer, and that I did. I knew that nothing was going to change. But one day, Mother got all dolled up like she used to many years ago, she wore that same perfume that I could always remember from the ‘happy times’, and made Father dinner. When he and his friends showed up, drunk, I knew that it was going to be the last time I’d ever see him…he packed his overnight bag, and left. I knew, that my life was going to end now that Father had officially left me here with Mother, and I think I had finally came to accept my fate.

Chapter 6

Out of nowhere, things changed. I wonder if God had finally answered my prayers. Mother treated me like I wasn’t worthless. I was a part of the family again. I was fed, I was bathed, and I could play with my brothers and watch television. I was the happiest kid on the planet. But then this woman came to the house…she wanted to speak to Mother. She claimed she was from Child Protective Services, so I was told to go play outside while they talked. After the lady had left, life stopped. Mother screamed at me, called me all of these awful things while throwing blows at me as hard as she could. It finally hit me, as she hit me…She was only nice to me because she knew someone was watching her every move and she was just disguising what really went on.

Chapter 5

I always wondered how things could get worse. Mother always thought of new games to make me suffer. This time…it was Clorox and ammonia. She’d shut me in the bathroom for what seemed like days, with that dreadful bucket of poison and the only thing I could do to keep me breathing was to lay next to the vent and cover my entire face with the cleanest dirty rag I could get my hands on. The vent came on every few minutes, but even then my lungs and throat burned like nothing else. One night, I was doing the dishes and I was doing the best I can to meet Mother’s specifications. She came in the room, screaming at me, and she had been holding a knife. I kept thinking to myself, “I am going to die.” As she stepped towards me, still holding that knife, she must have tripped..I felt this sheer sensation, and looked down to see the blood seeping through my clothes before it all faded to black…my mother had stabbed me..

Chapter 4

I hadn’t eaten in so long…I tried to dream of the taste…it only made the pain and hunger worse. I hated everyone because they could eat anything, and I couldn’t eat at all. I had stolen food from children’s lunches on the playground when they playing. I even stole from the cafeteria. But Mother always found out…and would make me pay. When I would eat, she made me puke it all back up. Then she would make me eat it! I thought Father would be my Superman, to help me escape from this evil monster, but he just stood there. I wanted nothing more than to just eat, and be loved. Too bad I was such a bad boy.

Chapter 3

I was very happy with life, but then Mother began to change and that once amazing women became this hideous, dark person. Even if my brothers and I had been doing the same thing, I began to be single out in the punishment. It started with being put in a corner, and gradually got worse. Mother had at this point she was drinking a lot more than usual, she began to really scare me. That sweet, caring voice Mother always had began to turn shrill, dark, and terrifying. It would send chills down my spine. One day, after drinking most of the day, Mother came after me and as she tried regaining her balance after almost falling, she had a hold of my arm and dislocated it. After she realized what she’d done, she drove me to the hospital and told me to never speak of it to anyone, and if I did, I knew the consequences would be much worse than that….

Chapter 2

Summer…Christmas…those are some of the happiest times I remember, before the abuse. Father, Stephen, was a fireman who worked in San Francisco. Mother, the beautiful and loving Catherine, was just basically a stay-at-home mother. During her better days, she would get all dolled up and always radiated with beauty…My two other brothers, myself, and my parents were like the ‘Brady Bunch’, the perfect family. We were all so happy. It seemed so perfect. But, that all got destroyed within minutes….