𝑴𝑨𝑹𝑶𝑶𝑵. 𝗿 𝗸𝗲𝗲𝗻𝗲.

𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘶𝘦

Dear Mom,

Things were so good. Things were so, so good, Mom. For the first 13 years, things were good. I was just a kid. I didn't know what was going on behind my naps. I didn't know what he was doing to you and Kayden. I had no idea what was happening.

How could you let me be such a daddy's girl when he was putting you through so much hell? How could you let me love him so much, knowing I'd be so betrayed when I found out the truth? He went from being the one person in the world I could trust with everything, and now I feel sick to the stomach at all the 'I love you's my naive self said. My heart breaks for that poor five year old girl, who thinks Daddy is going to be there forever.

You're so brave, Mom. Braver than you'll ever know. How you and Kayden put up with his crap for so long, I'll never know, but I'm not as strong as you guys. I'm far from it.

Maybe it's because he loved me first. Maybe it's because I wasn't raised to just be used to it like Kayden was. Maybe it's because I wasn't smacked after every hug like you were. But I can't take it. I really can't, Mom, and I'm so sorry for leaving you in that house with him.

I know it seems selfish and stupid, because you and Kayden were able to stay, but I really can't. I tried to tell you, and I tried to tell the teacher, but nobody was listening to me. You didn't listen to me. How do you think that what he does to us is normal? How can you just put up with it?

And I'm not blaming you, Mom. You're more of a victim than I ever will be, but we're you're children. I understand it's hard, but you're supposed to protect us. By staying with him - - and I know you think it's the right thing - - you're putting us in danger. I told you that, and you dismissed me like it was nothing. As if everything that happens in that house is just totally fine. Like it's not toxic and abusive. Like he isn't slowly killing every single one of us.

The worst part is that, even through it all, I can't stand up for myself. Because, like you, I still love him. He's my dad. I think a part of me is always going to love him, despite the monster that he is. And that's why I know I can't stay, because he takes advantage of that. He takes advantage of the love and eternal loyalty his own daughter has for him.

Can you not see how sick that is, Mom?

I love you, and I wished you'd come with me, but I understand it'll take you a longer time to see through his twisted manipulation than it did for me. Because you were the one that fell for him in the first place, after all. Don't blame yourself for my escape; I just hope that someday you manage to get yourself out of his web.

I'll see you one day, I promise. I really just don't think I can take one more night of locking myself in the bathroom and praying it won't be me his anger lands on. I can't be done with another silent family dinner, terrified that if I even chew the wrong way, I'll get something thrown my way.

I hope Dad gets help too. He's sick. Really, really sick, and no human should ever live with the anger he has. It's not healthy.

But you need to focus on yourself and the others before him. Don't put him first anymore. Put your kids at the top, please. That's all you need to do. Put us first. Him last.

I love you, Mom. I'm sorry.

Love, Dem.