The year 2011 was the most terrible year. One day after school, I came home expecting to call dad and talk like we had the night before; he was out doing his job as a truck driver. So after a while, my mom, brother, and I had finished eating the supper that Mom had made. There was a knock on the door and my previous stepdad answered it. It was the city mayor and the local cop. It was night time when they showed up. The cop said there been an accident, so he gathered my mom, my brother, and me. I was sitting next to my worthless stepdad when the cop told me, “Your father died. I'm sorry.” I wondered if it was a dream or not, but it was real. When I first heard the news, I began to bawl my eyes out because I had lost the most important man in my life. My head hung low in my hands. On the inside, I was dying because I had lost my father. I cried myself to sleep that night. I woke up a little after 7 in the morning the next day and had figured it was just a bad dream but, of course, it was reality hitting me like a 5-ton brick. It hit me pretty hard. I was depressed, sad, and lonely. So were my mom and brothers. We all had lost a very important man. And the reason why I said my stepdad at the time was worthless is that he was a drunk. He was also abusive verbally, emotionally, mentally, and physically. He would have a bad day at work then go drink at his drunk buddy’s house. Then he would come home late and beat my mom. During that time, I was playing football at school. The players, me, and my brother’s classmates knew about it. My brother's classmates/friends didn’t bully him about it, but my classmates would bully me. They would bully me so badly that I would not want to go to school for days. It even got to the point where I did not want to go at all because of how bad the bullying was. Plus my stepdad would throw stuff at us; especially me and my mom. He would throw anything he could get his hands on. It could be a beer bottle or wrenches. You name it, he would throw it at us. A few months after dad died, my stepdad was drunk as always and we just left the co-op that’s where he worked it was like 10 at night he said im your daddy now me an my brother said no the frick you ain’t a few nights later he came home drunk as he usually was he had a bad day at work so he took it out on my mom many many times i was 2 rooms away from their room it was 10 or 11 o’clock at night i had school the next day i was tryna block the sounds of him beating my mom you could hear every hit that he hitted her i could hear mom say stop you’re gonna wake up the boys i’m not gonna lie i got up to try an stop it but what would a 9 year old gonna do to stop a 50 something year old from beating his mom so i decided to jam the door with my dresser mirror i was scared that night i was scared that he was gonna come in my room an beat me i cried myself to sleep 95% of the time it was a scary place i was afraid that he was gonna beat me he would get mad at me or my brother an threatened to beat us like grown men he would even make fist an act as if he was gonna hit us it was mainly me and my mom that got into the most drama. my mom an him would begin arguing. He grabbed a kitchen knife and put it to my mom's throat like he was gonna kill her. Luckily, she grabbed a glass gallon pitcher and smacked it against his face. He left and mom called 911. After he went to jail, my mom met a guy named Brandon from Iowa Park. They got along just fine and he’s my stepdad now. I couldn’t say thanks enough because he took us out of a drunken town. Now I live in Iowa Park.
