I will give you a story.
One day when I was still on training wheels for my bicycle my step dad decided that wasn't going to be the way anymore.
So he took them off, but I was still afraid....so he zip tied my hands to the handlebars and lashed a rope from his bike to mine.
Then off we went down the dirt road we lived on....I was up for a time, and then I wasn't, but he dragged me for a long while on my face because my hands were lashed to the handle bars.
My mother quickly got me as neighbors could see me, and she rushed me inside....I had gravel embedded in my face.
She was picking it out with her tweezers and every time I flinched she hit me in the head with the curling iron....after I couldn't stop moving away she dumped 2 bottles of rubbing alcohol on my head and walked away.
I still have the scars in my forehead from that.
Madness. Absolute madness. I'm sorry to hear that.
Another one...my last time I was in her care.
Was watching Saturday morning cartoons eating my captian crunch....think it was transformers.
My half bother came in and was fucking with me, and I put up with it...until I didn't anymore.
I was older than him and rolled him on his back and held his arms down...was tapping him in the forehead over and over again.
He was screaming and mommy dearest came in and said I was trying to kill him. Step dad came in after a minute and pitched me through the wall....past the drywall and into the next room.
I got up and was done with it all. I knew there was nothing I could do at that point, but I wasn't going to fear him anymore.
He saw that in my eyes, and he didn't like it. So he grabbed me and put my over his lap, but I didn't scream and I didn't fight.
That is what he wanted and I wanted it to end. I remember just wanting to die...it was the only way it would end for me I thought.
The first hit with his belt buckle felt like fire....it was the base of my neck, the second was middle, and I remember that feeling of those first two.
Then I just gave in.....it stopped hurting and I remember looking at the outlet on the wall.
I remember looking at it until I couldn't focus on it anymore and then I got scared. The world was shaking and I didn't know why.
I woke up in a hospital bed a week later.
He hit me 27 times with that buckle and I had a seizure....after he was done and I wasn't responsive I was tossed out the window like trash.
A neighbor saw me by the trashcan bleeding from my ears and called 911 when she got home from work at 7pm.....
I will never be afraid and give up again in my life.
Jesus... I hope you get to live a long and happy life with your family.
Have you gotten any help dealing with this stuff?
Yeah, she needs killed. My mom was an abusive cunt, but not that bad, and she knows to never darken my door. She is scared to fucking death of me, and that makes me feel good.
(post is archived)