Every night she cried herself to sleep, thinking the torture would never end and all her memories will replay for the rest of her life. Moving back into her mother's since her father was in the pen. The house was like what you would see in horror films in her eyes, but guests wouldn't see it that way. You could smell everything, almost every room was dirty. Cat piss, dog shit, and human piss and shit too. She had people whom she has to refer to as brothers, people who have hurt her. The youngest was autistic and regressed in age and obsessed over little things, his tantrums were as loud as sirens. The middle sibling was a racist and huge hypocrite but he wants the same thing as her, to get out and to leave that place. The only sibling to understand the abuse and neglect put through on both of us, he had hurt me too. He contributed to the abuse alongside the eldest. You can't even really call him a brother. He was the worst one, a spoiled man baby who still lived with his father. He used his money and what he bought as a form of manipulation and control. He was the worst for abuse. Physical, verbal, mental. Then there was his father. His father was the worst one, he was a know-it-all old man who took someone I knew as my mother away from me. He was like a king pen, whatever he said went. He saw her as his daughter and she didn't reciprocate especially since he was a gross borderline pedophile to her. Just with the words said to her. He had hit her too, and the middle, and the eldest. Those three were the worst. She loves the middle and wishes the best for him but she isn't sure he feels the same. The whole time she had been there she cried herself to sleep thinking about her father. She hated these people and tried desperately to escape but to no avail. She decided that she had to stick it up and roll with it so she could see her father again, no hassle. Her room was neglected and trashed, the cat of the house shit and pissed everywhere. Sometimes she wishes she could've just let the cat and dog run out of the house because they fed those two mouths more than their children. Calls with her boyfriend are what kept her in check each day. She wanted to rip her hair out when he wouldn't talk to her, she would have to have music blaring to keep her from going crazy. It was an august afternoon once she had to return to that shit den that those redneck freaks referred to as 'home'. She had lived with her father and it was the happiest she had ever been, she knew there was a time limit since he was going to prison. Her and her boyfriend started dating during that period, long distance yet still happy. Once he was put in prison she lived with her grandmother for two weeks, leading into August. She loved the month of August but it seems it didn't love her. She was upset and scared but knew she could still visit her dear grandmother during the school year for holidays, dad was in for a year and a half so she knew she could possibly stay the next summer as a whole with her. None of this gets into how it was before she lived with her father.
