Blessings and doubts.

Intro to my life

•I won't be doing so much detail as I don't remember everything from my childhood. Also, this stuff happened to me so don't make a joke of it. Thanks for reading!•

This story started the day I was born. Had good loving parents, a nice home, and a funny family. My father and I were close, until my little brother was born. Then my father started to get close to my brother. As I got older, I realized how often my father was gone. Cheating on my mom, coming home just to get pleased sexually...never staying because we didn't matter to him anymore.

One day, when I was 4, my brother being 2 almost 3, our father came home, and begged our mom to talk to him. She was crying, and it was hours before we saw our mom. With my brother being sad, I decided to find out what was going on, so I opened the door to find my mom being raped by my father. My brother saw and cried and screamed. Me? Well I stood there thinking what do I do? I'm a kid, I don't know any better. My father yells and says "close the fucking door Nichole..." so I did.

Keeping my brother calm was always hard since I was a kid. Once our father came out, he said "be good I'll be back later..." when yet he meant he'd back when his mistresses couldn't fullfill his needs. He'd be gone for days and come back for sex then leave.  But one day, our father comes in with papers, and both our parents tell us, "we are getting a divorce..." I was 5, my brother being 3, I was not only broken, but I was scared. Knowing that I had to help my mom with my brother, but knowing that my father threw us away that quick without thinking. Once the papers were handed to the judge or whatever, our father took me and my brother from our mother, and introduced us to his new fiance, a woman he'd been sleeping with for a few weeks. She was mean and controlling and she hated me, I couldn't figure out why.

My father got married to his new lady, Michelle, a business lawyer from Lincoln. She made all of us move into her Lincoln home, with a dog and two cats and only two bedroom and one bath. Neighbors were fine, but they were quiet. I made a friend while my brother did as well. Once we moved in, however, things started to turn for the worst.

I was sitting on the couch, watching sesame Street...and my brother was at his friend's house playing with cars, or hot wheels. And my step mom got home from work 3 hours earlier than planned. She ate, and had talked on the phone about the meeting she was in. Once she was done, she came to me, and said, "Nichole, get up and do the dishes." I looked at her with confusion. I was 5, I can't do the dishes.

She got so angry at me for saying "I'm 5, I don't know how..." that she hit me on the face. She said, "That will teach you to obey me! Get up and do my dish like I asked, or are you too much of mommy's girl?" I was so mad that I ran to my room. But she followed me. Grabbed me by my arm and dragged me to the kitchen. She grabbed my chin with her hands and squeezed my chin and threw my head down to the sink. Then she said "It's not hard to do! Just do it! Now!"

I cried so hard but she hated crying people so she spanked me...I was alone...and I was scared. So I taught myself how to do the dishes. She also demanded I swept her mess up. I didn't know how but I tried.

Once it was nighttime I was so ready to go to bed. Nobody hurting me and nobody telling me that I am worthless. My father came home late from work I think, and Michelle was all over him. And lying to him. "Your daughter is so bad! She was trying to hurt me when I got home." he believed it so he started to hurt me too. He hit me on the face. And he said "You will respect my wife...I don't want to have to send you somewhere, shape up!" Once he left the room, I saw Michelle's smile. It was like she planned to kill me slowly and make me pay for something I didn't do.

About 6 months later, I was at my friend's house, and I was having the best time, because I wasn't being hit or yelled at. So I was okay. My friend noticed something was wrong, she saw a bruise above my right eye. She asked, "Why do you have a bruise?" I panicked. I started to cry. "My daddy and step mom hit me...I didn't do anything..." She cried because I was. She was so much like me, that's why we got along so well. Her name was Libby. Her father was a firefighter and her mom died when she was 2. It was a rough time, but at least she was able to be safe, unlike me. She asked her dad if I could the night, she didn't want me to get hit again.