The Kick Back

A Bitter Sweet taste..

Looking over my shoulder to make sure my door was closed, I knew this could possibly be a long night. No one knew why I hated going home at night and why I always slept with my door locked. Sometimes the monster isn't always under the bed, sometimes he's right in your face. Growing up I was always taught to keep family issues within the family. Loyalty was everything to me so I kept our secrets as close to me as I could. So many times I wanted to run away and never look back, but I knew my mother needed me.

My mother was a older woman trying to raise three young girls. She did foster care from time to time to make ends meet. I seen so many kids come in and out of my home that I became use to their temporary stays. I loved my mother with everything in me. She was best friend, my ride or die, my mother. Me and my mother was so close that at times when she fell short I would pick up the load. My little sisters were my everything so I made sure to set the right examples for them.

My father was this abusive drunk that worked from sun up to sun down, so we rarely seen him. I loved my daddy to death and I enjoyed his sober moments the most. We would laugh until we passed out, talk about life, and he would ramble on about his life in the military. Those were the good times. No one really knew why my father turned to alcohol, or why the abuse started. See my father had to grow up early and he watched his father abuse his mother. He even watched his grandfather shoot his grandmother, and my father was the one who had to bury the body. That's enough to turn the kindest heart cold.

My parent's fought so much that I never really had time to spend with the both of them together. Once the argument was over my father would leave the house, or sometimes both my parents would leave, and I was stuck with my sisters. Every night I would creep out of my room to make sure my sisters were safe and asleep. Anytime I heard uncle Tim in his room I would tip toe past.

See uncle Tim had a thing for me and every now and then he would try his hand. The thought of that man send chills through my body. How could my own biological uncle have an attraction to his niece?, I never did understand that. So many times I would try telling my parents but they didn't listen. After a while I stopped trying to tell them anything, and found ways to fight him off at night.

Sometimes Tim would get so bold he'd stand in my closet and watch me get undressed. He was even brave enough to come in my room while my parents were downstairs, and wait for me to come out the shower. It was disgusting. Things got so deep that I had to hide bruises, sexual advances, and being taken advantage of. Who could I tell when no one would listen?

Looking up at the ceiling tears rolled from my eyes. Maybe it was too early to be thinking thoughts of Antonio, but I found myself wondering if he could really protect me. Lord knows I can only take so much before I lose my mind....