My many points of views

The beginning

My views at this stage in my life were not simple even though I was between the age of five to the age of nine. I did not put ten and above, but you'll see why later.

To begin my story, I will start by telling the audience (that is you, my reader) that as a child, I was mostly corrupted by a family that believed I was meant to be beaten senselessly when I did not do as I was told. For any given reason, I was beaten until my legs were purple with bruises.

I know, this story is not as bright as you would have thought, but if you read the description of this story, you already know how it will all go. First some form of abuse, then one of my many views as I grow. Don't worry though, I will not be only negative in these stories. I will explain negative and positive journeys in my life. I will mostly be telling a short on what happened and then I'll try to explain my views. Right now, I'm just introducing myself to you, but there will be more to read below in the beginning.

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As I said, I was a corrupted five year old. The one thing I knew was that my mother left. I was so sad because at the time, I did not yet understand why. My views were the ones my grandmother had taught me. Each day, I would get on my knees and pray with her about my mother coming back to take me to the United States with her. My views of god were very confusing. I didn't get much of it, but all I knew is that if I prayed daily, I could get anything I want. That was one positive view for me.

During my early ages, all I wanted was my mother. I knew she was out there fighting for me, but I also knew she was going to be long before she had the ability to get my papers so I could live with her permanently. She had left when I was three years old because my father could not, and would not be able to support us. He was also very sexist, and as I'm currently aware, he did not want to have me. He did not want my mother to have me...... or my baby brother. My brother was two years younger than me. I loved him with all my heart, although at five years old, I was just a little one that learned from her bad environment.

So now you know, five years old, bad father that didn't want his babies, good mother that had to go to make a better future for us, uncles and grandparents that treated me like I was supposed to know better on what was right and wrong. Yada yada...... All the bullshit. But let's get to a bit more positivity.

I enjoyed every moment that my aunt came by because I got to see my cousins. We were all of similar ages, so we got along quite well because all we wanted to do was play. I literally used a broom and mop as people when I was seven. Every moment I felt happy was when I was playing with my cousins and brother, or when my dad; who I did not realize was a total jackass at the time - came over to spend some time with us. What made me most excited was that he brought a bag of chips for me and my brother, but I felt sad each time he left because I didn't know when he'd be back again..... I saw him maybe once a week or less.

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I hope my story is being enjoyed by my readers so far. If you like this one, tell me if you'd like part 2. Thank you and have a lovely day!

Ps. I forgot to mention my uncles were very sexual people, not in the sense that they did anything to me, but more in the sense that if a hot woman passed by, they would catcall. We had prostitutes in my country. That was my environment.