Beaten, Betrayed, Violated.

The Beginning of Hell

One of my very first memories has affected the way that I  view the world, permanently. I can never eat Sour Green Apple flavored anything, ever again.  But I'll explain that disgusting event, in the next chapter.

When I was just 4 years old, I lived with my mother, while my father was in prison for manslaughter. Needless to say, the company you keep, reflects on you. My mother wasn't exactly "on the straight and narrow".  She was an Exotic dancer, as was my grandmother, Loretta. Crystal and Loretta retained their good looks. Genetically gifted, I guess. 
My mother did drugs, drank, sold her body.... Sometimes she took me to these mansions, for her to visit her "friends". They were always old men. They always left me to my own devices while they "talked".
I had no friends, we moved around constantly at this time.
At some point, we moved into a one bedroom house, with my "meemee" and my mother. It was home for then. She seemed to be away more and more. My meemee quit dancing, and began working at KFC to be able to accommodate my mother's hours. My father was out of prison by now, and I was about to have my fifth birthday party, with the only friend I had, and some girls who didn't like me, because I only had one pair of shoes, my clothes weren't my size, and they hardly ever matched. My hair, never brushed. I had cavities from lack of brushing my teeth. My mother never even taught me to tie my own shoes, pour my own cereal, not to talk to strangers. What my private areas were. Nothing a mother should do. She was a mother in a biological sense only.

But I loved her, and I always will.

One day, my mother tells me that she met someone, her new boyfriend. His name was Steve, and he seemed really nice. He was bald, brought me candy, played games with me in the living room. I was pretty happy despite the circumstances.
My father started taking me on the weekends, and he was really good to me. I loved who he was when I was a child.
Little did I know that everything was about to crumble.
Steve and my mother moved in together, into a trailor.
My father, being the whore he is, acquired a new girl to fuck named Tammy. They moved in together, thus I began to spend time in both households.
Steve and my mother were normal, they did nothing of consequence, although they did drugs.
Tammy and her children were cruel. I had one toy, it was bought by my father. I was poor. One day, they ganged up on me, took my only toy, it was a truck.... They threw it in a dumpster, and when I cried, they threw me in too. They ran home, leaving me to helplessly struggle. I almost suffocated in piles of trash, sinking and gasping. It took me an hour to climb out. Finally. I ran back in tears, to tell Tammy what her children had done to me. She laughed at me. Then she proceeded to try to make me stand in a corner. I screamed at her, hating her. "You're not my mother!"
She grabbed me by my arm, hard.
I couldn't even struggle. She lifted me off the ground, and threw me into the bathroom. I can still hear the way my body sounded as it hit the wall.
I was screaming and crying. But no one was helping me. She began to feed me a bar of soap. She slapped me. She told me that If I told my father, he wouldn't care.
When you say those things to a child, they believe you. As the adult.
I tried to tell my father through the door, when he came home. But he was too busy fucking her to give a shit about his daughter.
Her children continued to torment me.
In my mind, nothing could get worse.
Oh.... How wrong I was. Its nearly laughable..... Sad, but comical.....
To a five year old, these are the things that matter most. Family, environment, acceptance and love. Everything that I valued was starting to disappear, as my father choose yet another woman before me, leaving Tammy quite suddenly. Then, Satan, her-fucking-self, comes traipsing in, like the whore she is. Angila. My  mother becomes more serious with Steve. She quits her job, and gets another. Steve starts to babysit me..
Here's where it gets REALLY fucked up. Read at your own risk.