"November 3, 1998"
"It's a girl!" the doctor said. "Can I see her?" My mother asked. The doctor handed me over to my mom. Once she saw me, she have me a hatred look. I didn't like it so I cried. "Can you leave us alone with our daughter doctor?" "Of course" the doctor walked out of the room, and my mother hit me. "Shut the fuck up!" my mom wisper yelled. I was barely born and she hit me, my dad just stood there on his phone. Ever since I was born, my parents have hated me, why? Because they forgot to use protection and had me, I was a mistake. My name is Melissa, and this my story growing up. The first thing I must say, I hate my parents, and they hate me. They won't send me to an adoption center because they were afraid I would tell people what they have done to me, and I would, I mean, wouldn't you want to put the two people you hate who hurt you in many ways behind bars? My mom was really young when she had me, she said I took away her freedom. She would say that as a reason to slap me in the face. After a while, I got used to it, the pain in both my cheeks and the blood trickling down my face. After slapping me in the face, she found a new joy in hurting me. She would pull down my underwear and spank me with the belt or with her sandals, it was painful. I had blood trickling down my legs. Of course, she didn't care if it hurt me. Time for one of the worst part of my story...my sisters.
YOU ARE READING
Troubled Child
Non-FictionMelissa is a little girl with parents who don't love her and the troubles in her life growing up. With her life she has a lot of problems with her family, school, and boys. This a true story of one of my friends. She has given me permission to use...
