The Beginning

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I don't remember when it started. Probably just with small lashes of rage, that turned into physical violence. It's been going on for as long as I can remember. She would get mad over something small. Then her temper would rise, and her voice got louder. Then she would swear. And when she began to swear, that's how you knew she was really mad. She called me things like "retarded" or "demented". I always felt like something was wrong with me, but was I that much of a burden? If screaming and swearing wasn't enough, she would lash out and that's when I got really scared. She would hurt me. She hit me so hard, I would be in pain for days afterward. I cried every restless night for years.

She had abusive parents growing up, so I can see the family resemblance. But why hit your own child? I've been wondering that for a long time now. How is it right to hurt someone so young, and fragile? That shit traumatized me. I'll never be the same. Every time I look at her I see her rage. I see her hate. I see her beady eyes filled with disgust.

I've always tried to be the angel child. I get good grades, I try not to get into trouble, I'm really smart. Yet, I'm still a disappointment to my parents. My younger brother who's only 10, gets into way more trouble than I do. And personally, I think he's quite the handful. But she seems to love him much more than me.

She's done so many things to me that will stay with me for the rest of my life. I will never forgive her, even if she did the nicest thing in the world. She will never change. She's abusive. And she is my "mom".

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⏰ Last updated: May 30, 2021 ⏰

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