She suffered all her life. She had me at 42. My biological father was an alcoholic. He used to beat her for no reason and he was drinking all the money. She wanted to escape so she divorced.
Or at least that's what I think happened. I don't even know if they were married. I always assumed that they were.
After letting her old life go, she had to do something. She had to get up from the ground. She had nowhere to go and a three year old on her shoulder. Soon, she met an older man who seemed nice and helpful. He let us in his house. Shortly after that, they got married.
In the beginning, as it always is, everything seemed to be okay. Our lives changed, we had a home, we had a roof over our heads.
I don't even remember those times. I grew up in that house. They raised me together. I didn't even knew that he wasn't my father, until one day she told me. I still kept on calling him dad. Even today, I am calling him dad.
Then thibgs turned around. He was starting to realise that having a stepdaughter costs money. At least I think that is the reason of the problems. If not entirely, but this was one of the reasons. He was veey nervous when mom asked for money. She had a little income but she would spend it all on paying more than half of the bills. She wasn't working due to her medical condition. All the pain she endured thourought her life accumulated and hit her in the most snsitive organ: her heart. Her heart was made of gold but apparently gold isn't enough for so called God.
She was very religious. I remember her forcing me to go to church every Sunday. I mean, I believed in him to. But a 5 year
old 's place isn't really in the church.
The problems grew to be everyday fights. He was shouting for every little thing. If the soup turned cold till he ate it, he would make a scene. In those moments I would be eardropping and crying in my room.
Once I cried so badly that I couldn't stop. She even called my best friend in the neighbourhood to help calm me down. I felt so terrible. It was the first time I took a pill to calm down.
As the fights continued, I started complaining. Seeing all my classmates having the oerfect families made me mean. I envied them. I wished to be them. I wished having family trips. I wished having both my parents in the crowd when I was attempting competitions. I craved that life.
